


Becoming The Egos

by Dotdotbeepdot



Series: My Storyline [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Abandonment, Ableism, Anxiety, Blood, Choking, Crying, Dr. Iplier being a tired fella, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Host is a dumbass, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Misgendering, Nausea, Outing a character, Panic Attacks, Relapsing, Seizures, Spying, The plot thickens baby, kind of, parents fighting, will add as I go on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-10-17 09:04:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 26,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20618477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dotdotbeepdot/pseuds/Dotdotbeepdot
Summary: A little fic on how I think the egos became egos!!





	1. King of the Squirrels

**Author's Note:**

> Imma try and have a schedule for this. Pretty much every week I'm gonna post a new chapter of the boys until the fic is finished :D
> 
> Also these will all be in the new egos pov but sense King is feral when he first came around it was in Dark and Wilford's pov

“Well, this sure is new huh?”

“Shut it Wilford, just get him out of there!”

Today was supposed to be a normal day. Dark and Wilford were doing they’re normal day things, Wilford getting ready for his interview and Dark planning revenge on his ex-husband/friend. Completely normal, well for them it was completely normal, but then Wil heard something in their trash cans and saw disgusting kid with a couple of squirrels rooting through the trash. Wil let out a shout and had chased him all the way up a tree. Dark followed to see what was going on just in time to stop his husband from shooting anything.

Now here they were, staring up at a tree filled with squirrels and a ratty kid, trying to get him down.

“He sure got up there fast,” Wilford wondered, smiling up at the kid who only seemed more afraid of him now. Dark couldn’t blame him, Wilford’s smile is something out of a horror film. “How long do you think the little fella has been out here? He looks worse for ware.”

That was a huge understatement. The kid looked like he was born in the forest. He was, by the looks of it, in his early 20’s. He was only wearing a pair of small, torn up shorts. The only way they even still fit him is because of how skinny he is. His hair was long and knotted, covered in sticks and leaves and mud. He was also covered head to toe in scars. The kid was gripping one of the branches in terror, dirty socked feet kicking the trunk to try and get up higher.

Dark wouldn’t lie, he pitied the poor thing.

“It doesn’t matter,” He snapped at his husband, turning to glare at him. Wilford didn’t even notice, still staring up the tree with a grin. “Just get him down from there before he gets hurt―”

Before Dark could even comprehend what was happening, Wilford was pulling out his gun from nowhere and clicking off the safety, aiming straight for the head. Dark let out a shout and shoved Wil’s arm roughly away. The gun went off and they watched the kid let out a shriek before falling from the tree. Just as fast as the gun appeared, it disappeared and Wil caught him before he hit the ground. Immediately, the kid started to struggle. Wil let out a noise of surprise and trying to hold him still against his chest.

“Wilford you  _ idiot, _ ” Dark hissed. “I told you to get him down safely!”

“You―  _ hey _ ― you did not tell me that!” Wilford swore as one of the kid’s legs kicked him hard in his crotch. He had his back pressed against his chest and both arms pinned at his sides. The kid was panicking and Dark saw blood trailing down the side of his neck and pooling in his collar bone. 

“Get him inside,” he demanded. “He’s hurt. You shot him you damn idiot!”

Once Wilford poofed them inside, Dark locked all the doors and rushed to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. As he grabbed it, he heard a shout from the kitchen and something breaking. He rushed back to Wil to see him without the kid.

“Did you just lose him?” Dark was furious, but also terrified. If that kid escapes, he might find someone and tell them two men tried to kidnap him. Then there would this whole mess with the police again and they’d have to leave the manor again for another few decades before things calmed down.

“I didn’t lose him!” Wilford defended himself, pointing at one of the cabinets. “He got free and went in there!” 

Dark looked over to where he was pointing and groaned. He glared at his husband one last time before slowly walking over. He saw broken glass on the floor next to one of the cabinets along with the sound of heavy breathing. He gently opened the cabinet door, only for a bloody hand to shoot out and grab the door before it could be opened any further. It was only slightly ajar, but Dark could see his terrified eyes staring at him. Dark smilled― unlike Wilford, he knew how to look reassuring― and slowly got down on his knees, ignoring how his back complained immensely and his joints cracked.

“You’re bleeding,” He began softly. “I can help you, but you need to come out of there, okay?” 

The kid didn’t move. It didn’t seem like he understood what he was saying. Dark sighed, this was going to be harder than he thought. He wondered if he could lead the kid out with food, it was easy to see he hasn’t eaten for awhile. He turned back to Wilford, still keeping his grip on the knob, and asked him to grab some food. Wilford nodded, somehow finding it fun to search their mostly empty kitchen for food. He came over with a half eaten jar of peanut butter.

“Really?” Dark didn’t bother hiding his disappointment as he stared at the jar, grimacing at the strong smell. 

“Well yeah,” Wilford rolled his eyes and crouched down next to the other. He wiggled his mustache as he held up the open jar. “He was being followed by squirrels. Maybe he likes peanuts too!”

Dark was about to retort that that was the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, but the kid’s grip on the door lessened and he moved a little, his face coming closer to the opening. The two held their breath as the kid poked his head out, staring at the jar as his stomach made a painful sound. Everything was still for a moment, before his hand surged for the peanut butter. Wilford yelped and fell backwards to try and get away from the kid’s grubby hand.

“You need to come out to get any food,” Dark also jumped away at the sudden motion, yanking the door all the way open now. “If you let me help you, you can have the jar.”

The kid sunk back in the cabinet and glanced at the two. Now that he was fully exposed, they could see that he was using his other hand to hold his neck, blood slipping through his thin fingers. His wide, sunken eyes looked back and forth from the two in front of him, and back to the food. Another tense moment, before he took a step out of the cabinet. Once he was fully out of there and sitting on the title floor, Dark shut the door behind him, the kid watching him do so and cringing away when his hand got a little too close. 

“There,” Dark said as soft as he could not to startle him more. “Wil give him the jar.” 

Wilford happily handed over the peanut butter, forgetting he had it for a moment. The kid quickly snatched it from his grasp and held it in his lap, shoveling the sticky food into his mouth like an animal. Dark grimaced in disgust, but moved closer with the kit to start patching him up. He tested first, gently putting his hand on his shoulder, keeping it there even when the kid flinched and watched him, slowing his feverish eating. Dark spoke soft words of comfort as he went to move his head a bit to look at the wound. It was only an indent, the bullet only grazed him thankfully. He explained that the alcohol will sting a little as he dabbed the wound. The other flinched and tried moving away, but Dark kept his grip firm and gently shushed him. Once he was done cleaning it, he grabbed some tape and gauze and started bandaging the wound.

Wilford watched with a giggle as the kid stuffed his face, still keeping an eye on Dark, and his husband reassuring him every moment. Dark heard him and sent him a scolding look to quiet him. It only made Wilford laugh more, it was funny how he could be so soft and fatherly one moment and then ready to tear off someone’s head the next.

“So what’s your name kiddo?” Wilford said through his chuckling. The kid looked up at him, still not knowing what he’s saying. 

“I’m not sure he knows Wil,” Dark responded, eyebrows pulled together. He moved to sit next to his husband to talk to him better. “He doesn’t seem to understand english and with how thin and dirty he is, there is a good chance he was out there for years.”

“What if we call him King of the Squirrels.” Wilford ignored the somberness of Dark’s words and leaned forward to grab and squish the kid’s cheeks, who in turn squealed and wiggled out of his grip.

“Wil, what is with you and the squirrels?” Dark deflated, exhausted. Everything that had happened in the last 20 minutes finally getting to him. 

“I just find it  _ interesting _ that he had so many squirrels!” Wilford explained, his slur thicker as he put emphasis on the word. “Plus, look.” 

He pointed towards the back door and Dark followed his finger. He gaped at the shocking amount of squirrels trying to get into the house. They were doing everything from scratching at the bottom of the door to making a ladder out of each other to turn the handle. Dark blinked a couple of times to see if this was really a thing that was actually happening or if spending so much time with the insanity that was Wilford Warfstache was finally catching up with him. 

“King of the Squirrels it is.” he mumbled, still staring at the display. 

Wilford cheered like a child and hugged the newly crowned King tightly, making him yelp and try to claw his way out of his arms.


	2. The Author

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New guy being a cocky bastard and the others (minis King) finding out about their stories.

Author already knew what he had to do.

He strolled through his forest, one hand in his pants’ pocket and the other twirling the bat on his shoulder, whistling some Queen song to himself. He was giddy. He had heard Their demands and decided dropping by would be exciting. They were oblivious of what was to come― of  _ who _ was to come― too busy dealing with the first little monster in their care. Author was half way through Queen’s  _ Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy  _ when he spotted the mansion, excited grin turning down right shark-like.

He hopped up the steps and knocked, not too kindly, on the door with his bat. It took a second for any response, but sure enough, Wilford Warfstache himself opened the door with a wide,  _ stupid,  _ smile. Author smiled back, pushing his way through and inside the house before the pink buffoon could even speak. 

“Woah there,” Wilford laughed, closing the door behind him as he followed the Author inside his own home. “Do I know you, good sir?”

“Not yet no,” Author huffed out a laugh at the way he was greeted. He walked through the halls, trying to find someone with a more stable mind. Well, bad choice of words. Someone that wasn’t a complete idiot like King and Wilford. “Where is your husband? I need to have a little chat with both of you.”

“Oh!” Wilford exclaimed, starting down the hall to lead Author to him. God he was an idiot. “He’s in his office right now.”

They went through a surprising amount of hallways― it felt like they had passed the living room five times― before they finally stopped at Dark’s office. Author could barely hold his excitement anymore. Wilford opened the door and poked his head in, completely vulnerable, The Author noted.

“Darky! Someone uhhh,” He brought his head back out and looked to his guest. “What’s your name?”

“Not yet.” Author sang, holding a finger up to his mouth, his eyes glittering dangerously.

“Well, uhh,” Wilford turned back inside the office. “Someone is here to talk to you and I!”

There was a moment of silence before Dark allowed them both in. Wilford let out a cheer and opened the door wide enough for both him and the Author to slip inside, closing it behind him. The Author and Dark didn’t take their eyes off each other while they all got settled. 

“Do you mind telling me  _ who _ you are and  _ why _ you are here?” Dark continued to stare him down, standing up from his desk and coming around to face him dead on. Author wanted to laugh at the way he towered over the other. For such a powerful entity, he sure was tiny.

“The Author,” he announced. Dark narrowed his eyes at him, clenching his jaw. “And I was sent here.”

Immediately, Dark stiffened. He looked over at his husband, both of them sharing a look. Wilford looked confused, while Dark looked suspicious. He looked back at his guest and his suspicions were proven correct and he turned aggressive. 

“Mark…” Dark hissed. Author laughed, throwing out his hands, his bat almost hitting Wilford in the face if he hadn’t moved away in time. Shame, that would have been funny.

“The universe!” he exclaimed. “I get Their messages and follow Their command. And yes, in a more complex way, Mark sent me.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Dark snapped, continuing to look between him and his husband. “If Mark sent you―”

“Mark created me,” Author stressed the words. “We are characters in his show. He made videos about us. Videos about me and you and Wilford and King. We became his little pawns in some messed up game he’s playing with the universe as the audience.” 

Silence filled the room after his words. Dark looked truly scared, it made the Author laugh. He looked over to Wilford to see him not doing much better. His eyes were foggy and he stared blankly at nothing. His poor broken up mind couldn’t handle the thought of his life being nothing, but fiction. Author heard an echo of a scream and turned back to Dark just in time to see his shell crack. The two spirits trapped inside split in color and screamed in anger and pain. It stopped as soon as it started as Dark twisted his neck to silence them. He settled his gaze back on the Author.

“How can we―” he stopped as he looked towards his husband, a flash of pain across his face before looking away. “How can I believe that what you say is true?”

“Well,” Author laughed at that. He spun the bat back on his shoulder. “If you would ever so kindly hand me you’re computer, I’d be  _ thrilled _ to show you.”

Dark stared at him a little longer, trying to see the trick, before leading him over to the desktop on his desk. Author brought up Youtube and typed in Markiplier. He saw Dark glitch again in the corner of his eye, making his grin grow. It was entertaining to tell someone of this secret that he’s been keeping for so, so long. Having all knowing eyes can really come in handy as a character. He brought up his video first, letting Dark watch a bit of it, before switching it to King’s. Dark seemed pale at the sound of  _ his _ voice only to turn completely white seeing him playing as King. 

“I’ll save you the worry of seeing Wilford’s video until your alone,” Author spoke up after the video ended. He stood up straight and smiled down at Dark. “You, however, don’t really exist yet in this game. Only an idea in Their heads.”

Now it was Dark’s turn to stare blankly in the distance. He didn’t take his eyes off the screen the whole time.

“I better leave,” Author tutted, moving around the desk and towards the door. “I will be back, my story doesn’t end quite yet. There will be more after me, not for awhile, but you will gain quite a lot. Spoiler alert though―”

Author had opened the door during his exit speech, but turned around to add one more thing before he left. Dark finally looked up from the screen to meet the Author’s eyes. They shined with his smile.

“You are the villian.”

With that, the Author left before Dark could  _ really _ break. He’ll be back in a few days with his next task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one is short but thats just the way author goes baby


	3. Dr. Iplier

This probably was some trick. Someone was either gonna give him a job or kill him. Most likely it was going to be the second one.

He held the flyer loosely in his grip as he trudged along the path, rain drizzling through the trees. God, he wished he had at least taken the car before his ex wife kicked him out. Now that he thinks about it, taking a suitcase of clothes and a six pack of beer wasn’t really a good idea. The doctor was running out of money quickly, feeding himself and his addiction, so at the chance of getting killed or getting a job, he figured either situation was a win.

Dr. Iplier finally made it to the end of the muddy path. He figured with how deep the path was leading him into the forest, that the possibility of this being a trick to lure idiots into the forest and kill them was a solid 80 out of 100, but now that he was looking at a gigantic old mansion, that 80 turned into a positive 100. Still, something was pulling him towards the huge, double doors of the manor. The doctor knocked weakly with the iron handles and waited silently, weighing the idea of going in his suitcase and grabbing a drink before he was murdered. When the door finally opened, he was greeted by a man with a pink mustache and matching suspenders.

Edward was going to get killed by a fucking clown, apparently.

“Oh!” The man exclaimed, stepping back and widening the door for him to come in. “Dark, we have another one!” 

The man trailed off as he closed the door and left the doctor in the hall. Dr. Iplier stood where he was left for a few more moments, questioning if this was really worth it, before sighing heavily and following the man.

When he found him, two more people were with him. One was all black and white, with outlines of blue and red shivering against his frame. He was trying to hold another man, who was younger than the other two men, in his lap. The younger man was also covered in blood and peanut butter.

Now, this would be one of the weirdest and most terrifying things Dr. Iplier has ever seen, but he also hasn’t taken his pills in awhile so he couldn’t really trust his eyes. The black and white man was having a hushed, angry conversation with the pink man, while also trying to calm down the bleeding man. After the black and white man seem to win the argument, he turned to glare at Dr. Iplier.

“Who are you,” he hissed, the bleeding man whimpering in his grasp. “And how did you find us?” 

“Here,” Edward held up the wet flyer, the pink man taking it from him, reading it, and then holding it out for his companion to read. “I found it on the street, thought I either get murdered or a job. Seems like a win either way.”

The black and white man sighed, shushing the bleeding man softly and keeping his firmly in his lap. He looked up at Dr. Iplier, searching him. 

“Are you really a doctor?” he asked, suspicion obvious in his voice. Edward couldn’t really blame him, it seems unlikely that an actually medically trained person would answer to a flyer about hiring a personal doctor with a place to stay.

“I have a medical licence,” he confirmed. “I was an army doctor beforehand, so I’ve seen enough to be of use.”

The bleeding man’s shaking was starting to slow down, still gripping his stomach to stop the blood from leaking out. Iplier took a hesitant step forward, and the black and white man’s red and blue outline jumped, leaning closer to the younger man. Dr. Iplier put up his hands to show he wasn’t going to hurt him and the black and white man calmed down slightly. He moved away to let the doctor get through. Iplier left his suitcase by the doorway and crouched down in front of the bleeding man.

“Do you have a first aid kit or anything?” Edward kept his voice as gentle as he could to not scare the men further. The black and white man next to him nodded and turned to his friend.

“Wilford, go get it. It’s in the kitchen next to King’s spot.” The pink man― Wilford apparently― gave a slute before disappearing and reappearing with the kit, handing it over to the doctor with an unnerving smile. Edward took it slowly― why the hell was he smiling right now?― and searched through to see if it had everything he needed.

“So uhh,” Edward grabbed the things needed while trying to make conversation. Alcohol, thread, needle, bandages. “What happened exactly to um…”

“King,” the black and white man answered. Wilford came to sit next to him, holding his bloody hand. Edward saw a ring on their hands. He tried not to stare. “The Author, another one of… ours, came over and hurt him. He left before we could get him.”

“That’s…” Dr. Iplier blinked as he removed King’s hands. The cut was deep, but not deep enough to need stitches, though. “How do you know it was him then?”

“He’s been doing this for months,” Wilford spoke up. He moved so now his head was in the black and white man’s lap and watched Edward work. “Plus, King told us.”

Dr. Iplier looked up at King while he put his hands on the wound to apply pressure and stop the bleeding. King looked too panicky to say anything, only opening and closing his mouth like a fish. He nodded weakly. 

“He doesn’t let it stay usually…” King whispered. His voice sounded strange, like he was new to english. “He’s nice to me.”

“He carved into your stomach with a knife!” the black and white man seethed. His hand, that was in Wilford’s hair, tightened in anger. King flinched and whimpered again. Edward shushed him, lifting his hand to check if the bleeding has stopped. 

“Alright topic change,” He mumbled as he pulled his hands away and started cleaning away the blood. “I never got your name, scary black and white man?” 

Wilford let out a loud as  _ shit _ , laugh. He got a slap on the forehead for that. Edward chuckled softly at their obviously close relationship, moving to bandage the now cleaned wound.

“Dark,” black and white man answered. “And you?”

“Edward Iplier,” replied the doctor. He leaned King forward a little to check if the bandages were too tight or too loose. “Nice to meet you Dark. Well, kinda.”

Once everything was patched up and Dark double checked to see if King was ok, they all got up. Everyone, but King. Wilford had him in his arms so he didn’t get hurt walking. He spoke to Dark, saying he was going to take him to his bedroom, leaving Dark and Dr. Iplier alone. 

“The Author wrote that flyer for you to find,” Dark said, looking at the crumpled piece of paper. Edward raised an eyebrow at that, grabbing his suitcase. “He said you would come soon.”

“So this Author guy―” Dark cut him off before he could continue, moving down the hall and gesturing the doctor to follow.

“I’ll show you to your room,” He said curtly. Edward struggled to get the suitcase on it’s wheels and follow after the man. “Later when you are more settled, I can show you to an office. I’ll get you the materials and you can set up your own clinic.”

Dr. Iplier blinked. He really didn’t expect any other this, getting a new job and a place to stay. He wondered if this was just a mass hallucination and he just wandered into an empty mansion in the middle of the woods. He wouldn’t put it past him, he did believe that he had a nurse for years. Speaking of… 

“I’ll need a few personal things,” they made it to a mostly empty room. Only a bed, desk, and dresser decorating the room. Edward tossed his case onto the bed, and started unpacking. “Pills and such.”

“I will get you anything you may need, Doctor,” Dark assured him. Dr. Iplier nodded and grabbed a beer― he hasn’t had one in a while― about to open it, but a cold, grey hand laid on top of his to stop him. The doctor glanced up and felt a bit of annoyance at Dark’s stern look. “I will warn you, alcohol isn’t allowed in this house.”

“Why not?” Edward squaked. He might be overreacting a little, but this was ridiculous.

“My husband, Wilford,” Dark pried his fingers off the can and took it away. The drink was surrounded by darkness before disappearing entirely, making Dr. Iplier pout. “Is a recovering alcoholic with no impulse control. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to notice that he’s been sober for quite some time, but I rather he not find any and relapse.”

Dr. Iplier shrunk a little at that, guilt washing over him. He knew how much of a pain alcoholism is― more than anyone― and he knew how much it hurts loved ones. He sighed, handing the rest of his cans over to Dark.

“Might need help with that too.” he murmured somberly. Dark’s firm expression softened a bit.

“I’ll help with that as well, Doctor,” he spoke, giving Edward one last look over, before turning on his heel and calling over his shoulder. “After all, you are one of our own now.”

Dr. Iplier felt a hint of foreboding at that. He shrugged it off and continued unpacking. It wouldn’t be so bad taking care of just three people right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter, you're welcome. I kinda like this one actually. Next up is Hosty and boy it's a fun one!!


	4. The Host

The Author shoved himself inside the manor, the light flooding in from the moon. However, the light did nothing to help him move.

He struggled to breathe as he stumbled through the darkness, his thoughts going rapid as he tried to remember where Wilford’s room was. He could help him. He could save him from this. A voice that was not really a voice whispered the truth, but the Author covered his ears and cried to drown it out.

It seemed that his panicking has caused quite a lot of noise, because Author could  _ feel _ the soft footsteps against the wooden floor coming towards him. Soft, hesitant, practiced footsteps.  _ King. _

King had entered the room, going off the fact that the footsteps abruptly stopped. The Author held his breath, keeping his head down.  _ He will get Wilford,  _ he thought hopefully,  _ He will see him and run to find Wilford. Wilford will help me. Dark would be too hesitant, Wilford wouldn’t even blink an eye―  _

Before his thoughts could finish, King turned on his heel and ran, the Author felt the panic and fear in them as they faded away. It didn’t take long however, until King came into view. 

The Author wished he didn’t, wished that it was just a one time thing, just a phantom pain. 

King had stumbled to the doctor’s room,  _ no no not him,  _ and shook the man awake. He tried to talk to Dr. Iplier, but his panicking made his words blur together as he tugged on the doctor’s arm. Words like “man” and “blood” were what got Edward to get up, shaking off the sleep and letting the younger man lead him to the Author. 

Author couldn’t breathe. He needed Wilford, not Iplier. He didn’t want to be healed, he wanted to be killed. He wanted this to end, he wanted to be saved, he wanted Them to stop. Author tried pushing himself away from the wall, to leave so they couldn’t heal him, but he was too weak to even move an inch. For a brief moment, he hoped that They were truly letting him die from his wounds― it was virtually impossible to lose as much blood as he was and not be dead. He has hemophilia too― but They were likely keeping him from leaving so he doesn’t ruin Their story. He was too important to Them.

King and Dr. Iplier came skidding into the room. Edward swore immediately and told King to get Dark and Wilford.  _ Finally _ , Author thought, holding back his laughter. He must’ve let a little through, or maybe the doctor had turned on a light and saw his smile, because he swore again.

“How the hell are you still conscience?” he questioned, sounding shocked. “How are you even still  _ alive _ ?” The Author did laugh this time, only to flinch away as Iplier got closer.

“Don’t―” he choked on his words as his breathing picked up. Dr. Iplier stopped a foot away.

“I need to get you to my office,” the doctor soothed. “I don’t have much right now, but―”

“I don’t want to be  _ healed, _ I want to  _ die _ .” 

King came back with only Dark. Author whipped his head in the footsteps direction. He snarled at them both. They didn’t bring Wilford, of course. Either that big pink buffoon wouldn’t wake up or Dark didn’t want to bring him. He was too soft on his husband, sheltering him from the world he lives in. Dark hasn’t even shown him the videos. Pathetic.

“Author,” Dark’s voice was hushed. “Dear God, what have you done to yourself.” Author snarled again, whipping his head back again to face Dr. Iplier as he began to move. 

“Author,” the doctor said in disbelief. “This is  _ the _ Author? Jesus fuck…” He directed his next words behind him, to Dark. “He― he won’t let me take care of him. He said he didn’t want to be healed and he just… wanted to die.”

Dark came into sight, making the Author’s breathing hault. Dark was staring at him, he looked confused and worried, honestly worried for him. King was standing behind him, holding his arm and shivering. Then, the Author saw Dr. Iplier. He looked horrified. Tense and restless, he had his hands balled into fist at his sides. Edward looked ready to lunge at him and physically drag him to his office. He grimaced, adjusted his grip, and looked away.

“He’s―” Dr. Iplier gulped, looking sick. “God, his… He’s  _ bleeding _ .”

“This must be entertaining for you Dark,” Author ignored the comment about the blood. He wanted blood. “Watching the Author bleeding out in your hallway.”

“Grab him.” Dark commanded. Edward complained that Author should come willing, but was interrupted by Dark’s tone. “He won’t come willingly, doctor. Grab him and bring him to your office.” The Author pushed himself weakly against the wall as Iplier started to slowly walk forward.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” Author snapped at the doctor, who’s footsteps halted for a moment. He continued forward still and took his arm to hoist him up. Author struggled weakly to get away. He cowarded away when Edward went for his other arm. “No, no no no, please.” 

“He’s nice,” King spoke up from beside him, making Author jump and Dr. Iplier successfully taking his other arm and helping him up. “Doctor won’t hurt you. Maybe just a little, but he says it will help you feel better and it will be over quick.”

Author was puzzled. He knew King was awfully naive, but he should be scared of the Author. Why was he trying to comfort him? Did he see him as a scared animal, like one of his squirrels? He felt a bit of irrational anger at that, but didn’t voice it in favor of keeping his feet under him as he was lead deeper into the manor. Author just stewed in his anger at being taken care of― and not in the way he wanted either.

They came to a stop, Edward quietly asked King to open the door for him, and then they were moved inside. Author was sat on a chair and then the hands left. Footsteps echoed through the mostly empty room― big by the sound of it― quiet mumbling filled the room as drawers opened and closed every which way. 

“Let me ask again,” Author jumped and swung his head to his left to face Dark. Apparently, everyone followed him to the office. “What have you done to yourself, Author?”

The Author laughed humorlessly. Turning away again, he wrapped his arms across his chest and slouched forward. “I was tired of being. I was tired of the knowledge I was cursed with. So, I tried to end it.”

“By cutting out your eyes?” Dark asked. His voice sounded flat, but Author knew he was confused.

“Funny huh,” the Author laughed again. “The man with a third eye, cuts out the two he has. I thought it would be ironic.”

“So, are They the reason why you haven’t died from excessive blood loss yet?” Dr. Iplier interrupted, walking back over with some materials in his arms. He placed them down on the chair besides Author and grabbed what he needed. 

“Have the others told you?” Author questioned.

“Yeah,” Edward signed. “Really needed a drink after being told I wasn’t a real person, but I got over it quickly.” he explained to the Author what he had and what he was putting on his cuts. Author flinched at the sting, but didn’t move. He might as well accept that he wasn’t going to die like he wanted to.

“Does King know?” He directed his question towards Dark.

“Wilford and I decided he should know,” He confirmed. “But he didn’t seem to understand. He only laughed at the video of ‘himself.’”

Author laughed too, wincing as the motion made the doctor’s hand slip. He apologized before continuing to clean away the blood.

“And the blonde stripe?” Dark sounded amused as well.

“Just before I cut out my eyes,” Author answered. Dr. Iplier finished cleaning away the blood and explained that he was going to disinfect them. Author only nodded before continuing his story. “I wanted to prove that I had my own free will. It didn’t feel like enough and I stressed myself into thinking that it’s just what They wanted.”

Dark hummed. “If you don’t mind,” he began hesitantly. “I know our time together has been… difficult… but I would prefer you stay here for awhile. Call it a suicide watch if you will.” Author huffed, They would never let him die so prematurely. He was still needed. “However, any sign that you’ve been hurting King again, and I’ll lock you away somewhere even you wouldn’t be able to write your way out.”

“I owe you one Dark,” Author said with a smile. “You give me a place to stay and consistent help― because I’m afraid the bleeding will never really stop― and I give you my word that I will not hurt another one of your own.”

“Creepy.” Dr. Iplier joked as he finished with the disinfectant.

“Then it is settled,” Dark announced, Author heard his neck crack as the elder tried to fix his broken spine. “Welcome to the manor, Author.”

The voice returned, making the Author shudder. The doctor asked if he was okay, but he ignored him. He turned to Dark and shook his head.

“No,” he whispered. “That’s not my name anymore, unfortunately.”

“Then what is it?” He could  _ see  _ Dark raise his eyebrows in interest.

“The Host,” he answered with a grin. “According to Them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Silver!! His chapter was interesting,,,, it was supposed to be light hearted but it got pretty agnsty in the end heh


	5. Silver Shepherd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this was supposed to be a lighthearted chapter.

Silver pressed himself against the brick wall and watched the Menace as he twirled his gun on his finger and sang in a hideous tone. By Silver’s knowledge, he was singing 'N Sync’s “Bye, Bye, Bye.” 

Diabolical.

The superhero moved closer, keeping a good amount of distance and assuming he didn’t just trip over a pile of trash because he didn’t react. He followed the man deep into the forest, listening to him sing and talk to himself all the while. The Menace was a cruel man, he went to Silver’s city, committing murder and adultry all the while. Silver growled low in his throat as he watched the man hum to Britney Spears and pop a piece of taffy he  _ stole  _ in his mouth.

_ Well, well, well,  _ Silver thought with a secret grin as he grew closer to him,  _ he should’ve watched out for attackers.  _

Silver let out a shout before lunging at the Menace, wrapping both arms and legs around his back and trying to throw him back. The man jumped and whipped around with Silver already latched to his back. 

“Hey!” he squawked, trying to reach back and grab Silver, but the other ducked as the hand swiping at his head and pressed himself closer to his back. Okay, maybe he should have thought this through a little more. The Menace was much bigger than him, both in height and weight, and Silver’s super strength didn’t really work if he was just hugging the man tightly.

Suddenly, the warm evening air of the forest was replaced with the cool inside of a room. Shouting and chaos exploded around him as well. Silver kept his face pressed against the man’s back as he continued to try and grab him and get him off.

“Wilford!” One shouted over the rest. “What the hell did you do this time?”

“He attacked me! I didn’t do anything!” The Menace tried to defend himself, spinning in circles and making SIlver feel sick.

“People don’t just attack people for nothing!” another voice interjected. “You had to have done something!”

“Oh shut it, doctor! Just get this thing off me!”

“Wait,” one, fairly quiet voice spoke above the others. The others went silent and the Menace stopped moving. “He’s… one of ours.”

Silver finally lifted is face from the man’s back and looked towards the voice. A man was leaning against a wall, bandages covering his face and blood dripping down his chin. “Ours?”

“Jesus, Host,” someone else came into view, rushing over to the bleeding man. He held Host’s face in his hands, Host leaned against them. “What are you doing up? You should be in your bed— come here. You might as well eat while you’re up.”

Host seemed to snap back into himself and moved away from his friend’s hands. He cleared his throat and turned back to Silver, sightless gaze still following him as the other man in the doctor's outfit fretted over him and pulled him towards a table where more people were sitting. 

“Where am I?” Silver poked his head over the Menace’s shoulder to keep eye contact— can he call it that if the other man probably has no eyes?— with Host. “How did I get here?”

“You hitched a ride on my back!” The Menace yelled in his ear, making Silver flinch. For once he’s glad he didn’t have super hearing. 

“Wilford can teleport,” Host answered looking down at his plate of food that was put in front of him as the doctor sat beside him. “Silver Shepherd came much later than The Host had predicted.”

“Can you please get off me now?” The Menace, apparently named Wilford, whined. “I’m an old man, you’re starting to hurt my back.”

Silver hopped off, giving Wilford a suspicious glare behind his mask. He looked around the room at the other people, seeing a grey man and another, younger man hunched over his food. The grey man cleared his throat and turned to face the Host, still keeping his eyes on Silver. 

“He’s another one?” He asked slowly. Silver narrowed his eyes at him as well. Another one of what? 

The Host only nodded in reply, looking tiredly at his food. “We get quite a few this year.” 

Grey man cursed. He tossed a glance at Host before turning to look entirely at the superhero. 

“My name is Dark,” he began, straightening his back and adjusting his arms behind his back as he got to his feet. He lifted his chin. “I apologize for the way we met, but I must ask. Why did you attack my husband?”

Silver gulped, shrinking under his cold stare. Silver might be a strong, brave superhero, but confrontation was never a thing he was good at. His gaze hardened as he tried to hold on to the bit of confidence he had earlier and pointed at Wilford with his gloved hands.

“I’m the Silver Shepherd! And your husband has been terrorizing my good city for days now,” he announced. “He’s been coming to town, drinking, having sex, and killing people. I followed him to put an end to his chaos!”

Dark whipped his head to glare at his husband, visibly fuming. Literally. Red and Blue jumped around him as he stared at him.

“You’ve been doing what?” He spat. Wilford tossed up his hands and shook his head rapidly.

“I’ve been doing nothing wrong!” He cried out. “Just been having a bit of fun! I don’t see what the problem is!”

Silver looked at him like he was stupid. Everything was wrong with that! You can’t just go around killing people and causing a mess in people’s lives. 

“You cheated on him!” The doctor shouted incredulously. He seemed to be thinking the same thing. 

“Wil,” Silver looked back to Dark as he sighed in defeat. He pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut, red and blue still twitching around him. “We’ve talked about you drinking and sleeping around.”

“What?” Wilford huffed in confusion. “When did we do that? What did we possibly talk about?”

“That you shouldn’t be doing that,” Dark’s voice raised with every word. “You are married and a recovering alcoholic! Unless you just forgot about the 30 years we spent together!”

Silver shrunk into himself as the two started yelling across from him. The doctor quickly got up, grabbing Host’s and the other person’s arms and pulled them away from the table, nodding for Silver to follow. The doctor lead them through the hallways and stopping once the shouting wasn’t as loud. 

“Are they going to leave each other?” The young man, who hasn’t said a word yet, whispered brokenly. He looked like he was going to cry. Silver brought him into a hug and he instantly latched on. 

“No no,” the doctor said softly, rubbing the kid’s back to comfort him. “They’re just having a little fight. There’s nothing to worry about, King.” He turned to look at Host as he said that, looking for help. 

“Dr. Iplier is correct,” he spoke up from his constant mumbling. “Dark and Wilford will fight for the next few days, but they will get past this with a rule that Wilford could not go out by himself. It will keep him from getting back into old habits.”

The kid— King— seemed to relax at that. Dr. Iplier sighed and gave the Host a soft thank you. Host stifled a smile, blushing slightly and giving a small nod in response. Host seemed to really like the doctor. Speaking of, the doctor smiled at Silver and straightened up. 

“Like Dark said, I wished we met at a better time. I’m Edward, but everyone here calls me Dr. Iplier. Let’s show you to a room, huh? I’m sure I can find one alone.” He addressed the other two, not seeing Silver’s look of confusion. “Why don’t you go to your room? I’ll be back to check on you as soon as possible— and Host, you stay in my clinic. I’ll clean you up as soon as I settle Silver in.” 

The two both nodded. Host was quick to walk off, mumbling under his breath as he entered a room. King unwrapped himself from Silver, giving a soft goodbye before going down the hall as well. As soon as they were gone, Dr. Iplier told Silver to follow him. 

“I’m sorry uh…” Silver walked close behind him as he looked around at the passing doors. “Am… I staying here or something? Because I do have an apartment in the city I can stay at.”

The doctor stopped at a room and opened it, making a pleased noise when it turned out to be a bedroom. He lead Silver inside before closing the door. Dr. Iplier rubbed his hands together and bit his lip. 

“You might want to sit down,” he suggested. “This might take a bit to explain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Googly Bear and idk I liked his.


	6. Google

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Dark's pov in the beginning, but it does become Google.

Dark appeared in a cloud of black smoke, it disappearing as he looked around. A new ego― as Host had started calling them. Dark thought it was a little harsh to call them characters― was supposedly unable to get to the manor, so he had to find him and take him. If Dark was going to have to do this more often than he’ll let Mark have them, this was just ridiculous. 

He had appeared on the side of a street, a busy one. He glanced back down at the bloodied, handwritten note that the Host had given him. The note clearly stated his coordinates, but why on the side of a street? He looked around again, looking for a person this time. A little way off the road was a body slumped against a tree, a note taped to their chest, and a box thrown beside them. Dark sighed.  _ Great,  _ he thought,  _ someone killed them.  _

He stalked towards it, wondering what he was going to tell Host, and ripped off the note to read it. 

**ANDROID!!! NOT A DEAD BODY!!!**

Dark raised an eyebrow. Androids? As in robots? Is that really where they were at in this society? Dark remembered when machines were new and exciting and now people were throwing their machines out on the street like it was nothing but junk. He huffed, glancing down at the android. If this was their newest ego, he better get him back to the manor before it rains. He grabbed the robot’s arm and, once again, disappearing into the black cloud, the robot and the box disappearing with him.

Once he appeared in the living room, he dropped the robot’s arm, it going limp and crumpled to the floor. Silver and King― who were sitting on the couch, watching tv― yelped, Silver pushing King in behind of him. 

“Dead body?” King asked nervously, looking up at Dark, who still stood above him.

“No,” Dark reassured, smiling at the two younger egos kindly. “It’s just sleeping.”

“He’s not moving though,” Silver said suspiciously. After finding out about everything, he grew rather snobbish around them, assuming they all did nothing but kill and do crime. Except King and Dr. Iplier, he was convinced they could do nothing wrong.

Dark rolled his eyes. “Someone get Host and Dr. Iplier,” he ordered. “Host probably knows what the do to wake it.” Dr. Iplier just refuses to leave his side. And if Host has another one of his breakdowns, it would be useful to have him there to drag him away.

King hopped up immediately, running down the hall to get them. Silver quickly followed behind, not wanting to be left alone with Dark. The eldest sighed. He wasn’t going to risk throwing out his back dragging it onto the couch, so he nabbed the box instead and opened it.

Inside was a plug, like a computer plug but longer, and a strange block with the same plug in thing on the end. Dark looked at the items with a tired look. Why did he have to get the advanced machine when he doesn’t even know how to work his computer half the time?

King and Silver came back with Host and Edward trailing behind. Host hugged his coat tighter around him as he turned all his attention to the robot. He mumbled under his breath and kneeled down in front of it. 

“The Host must warn everyone,” He spoke up from his narrations, lifting the robot’s head and pressing two fingers to the back of its neck “Google will become violent once awake.”

“Wait, what?” Silver squawked as its eyes snapped open.

Google awoke and immediately shoved himself off the floor and away from whoever was touching him. His core shrieked in his chest as he grabbed the man that had turned him on, going for his neck, but ending up grabbing his wrists. He had lifted his arms to protect himself. Google thought of breaking off his hands, teach him a lesson for even thinking of touching him, but he glitched. He blinked as his fingers twitched. 

“Don’t be afraid,” the man whispered. Google jerked his head up to look at him, and was met with bloody bandages. He continued to whisper under his breath in between his words. “I am the Host. The glitching is permanent, he apologizes, but you’ll be okay.”

“That’s not going to reassure him.” Another voice spoke up from behind the Host. Google let go of his arms and shoved himself to his feet, advancing towards the man in a doctor’s uniform.

“W-w-where a-am―” Google cut himself off, stopping in his tracks at the way his voice stuttered. He clenched his jaw shut, ignoring the way his body spasmed slightly at that. He turned back to the Host, who was now standing up and rubbing his wrists. “What-what did y-y-y-you do to m-me?” he snapped. The Host only gave a closed smile.

“The Host did nothing but turn you on,” he answered. “Matthias was the one that broke you. He threw you on the side of the road after you crashed and we brought you in.”

“Matthias?” Another voice questioned, but Google ignored them.

“He thr-threw me-e out?” he shouted. His arms spazzed again at his sides and his fans worked desperately to keep him cool. “That pa-pathetic human bro-o-oke me and then-then threw me a-away!” Google brought his hands to his head, ripping and pulling at his hair as his core growled darkly.

Who was he to just  _ throw him away _ ? He was a prototype, he was a  _ gift _ to him. He was a highly advanced android that took  _ years  _ to perfect and he  _ broke him  _ with all his stupid questions. Google was going to kill him. He was going to find him and kill him before he can even open his mouth to ask another question. Choke him until his eyes pop out of his head and his spine snaps. Then, he would kill his wife and the rest of his family and―

“Google is getting too worked up,” The Host knocked him back into the present. He shot his head up to glare at the bleeding man. “If he doesn’t calm down, he will crash again and would have to reboot.”

Google’s chest growled again and he narrowed his eyes, but he could see the red warning signs out of the corner of his eye, so he relented. He took a few deep breaths to help his fans in cooling himself down. He dropped his hands to his sides, clenching them when they twitched. Google looked around the room to see who else had witnessed that. 

There were five people around the room, three were grouped together and the doctor looking one was closer to him and the Host. The group of three was comprised of a man in a suit in front of a younger man covered in peanut butter and a person in a white jumpsuit. The suited man cleared his throat and took a step forward, making the two behind him huddle closer to each other. 

“If you’ve calmed down now,” Google’s lip curled at what he assumed was the man mocking him. “We can continue with introductions. My name is Dark―” He stepped to the side and showed off the two behind him. “This is King and Silver Shepherd. The one next to the Host is Dr. Iplier.”

“Do-o none of you have r-r-real names?” Google inquired, feeling a sense of satisfaction at seeing King and Silver so afraid of him. “Just-st titles?”

“I have a real name,” Google turned around to see it was the doctor talking. He was currently checking the Host’s arms. As soon as attention was on him, Host quickly pulled his sleeves back over his arms. Google saw a bit of bruising before he did, as well as some old scars. “I don’t know about the rest of them, though. There is someone else that has an actual name, but he’s at work.”

Google whipped his head back around to glare at Dark.

“Yes, my husband Wilford is away at work,” he bites out. He rolled his neck and glared back. “I didn’t find it necessary to introduce him when he is not here, but that’s everyone.” 

“And I do too have a name!” The superhero cried out from where he was wrapped around King. “You can’t know it though, because it’s my secret identity!”

“I-I don’t care.” Google looked around the room more while the superhero was talking and grabbed his box off the floor. He saw that Matthias was  _ kind _ enough to give him his st before throwing him away. He checked his battery power and grimaced. He must’ve drained his power when he overworked himself earlier. “Is-s-s there a room I-I can-can charge in?” He glanced back up at Dark.

He nodded, rolling his neck once more before gesturing for Google to follow him. “There is always a room available. Do you need a bed to charge?”

Google shook his head and followed behind, holding the box stiffly in his hands. Dark explained his role here as he lead him to his office. He gripped the box tighter as another spasm shook his arms. Hopefully an update will be able to fix that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways, yeah it's Google. Then we got Bim and that's a pretty good one in my opinion. Wilford's pretty fun in that one.


	7. Bim Trimmer

Bim gripped his coat, pulling it tighter around him as he looked up at the giant double doors of the manor. He was starting to feel intimidated by how out of place he was going to be here. Bim’s show got cancelled― he’s not surprised by that, it was only a matter of time before people got the idea it was shitty game show with no win― and immediately he was hired for a new show. He was already suspicious with the location being in the middle of the woods, but as soon as the trees started to clear and a mansion took its place, he was terrified.

He swallowed harshly, knocking on the door lightly. No answer.

_ Maybe they didn’t hear me,  _ he thought, biting his lip and hopping a little on his feet to stay warm.  _ Or maybe this was a trick. What if there isn’t actually a job here? What I was being tricked and no one even lived here? Oh God I need to get out of here―  _

The door opened before Bim could turn around and leave. He shook himself out of his thoughts and placed a smile on his face. 

A man, slightly taller than Bim and wearing a similar suit― only without a tie and the shirt was opened at the top― had opened the door. Another man, shorter and younger, stood behind him, peering over his shoulder at Bim. The suited man had a strange grey filter over him, but with red and blue outlining him. The man took a deep breath and let it out as a heavy sigh. 

“Come in.” he turned back into the house and mumbled. He passed the younger man and disappeared deeper into the house.

The younger man turned back to Bim and smiled shyly. He hunched in on himself slightly and gestured for him to come in. Bim smiled wider and practically hopped inside.

“Hello,” he greeted, putting on his usual persona of over-the-top confidence. “My name is Bim Trimmer! What’s yours?” He punctuated his question by thrusting his hand forward enthusiastically to shake the younger man’s hand.

The man jumped, taking a step back when Bim threw out his hand. “I’m King of the Squirrels.” He said with faker confidence. He wasn’t as good as faking it as Bim was. 

“That’s your name?” Bim awkwardly took his hand away, seeing as he didn’t want to shake it. 

“That’s what everyone calls me,” he speaks strangely, maybe he wasn’t a native English speaker. “It’s because I really like squirrels.”

“Um… alright,” Bim was starting to feel uncomfortable. King was a very weird guy. “Well, um, where— where is Wilford Warfstache?”

King perked up at that, grabbing Bim’s arm suddenly and dragging him deeper inside. Bim barely had time to close the door behind him before he was yanked away. King was surprisingly strong, or maybe Bim was just really weak. He dragged him through hallways and poking his head through many rooms. 

“Do you even know where he is?” Bim questioned, trying not to let his frustration show through his voice. 

King shook his head, poking his head through another room and let out a happy noise. He turned back to Bim with a smile and nodded rapidly, dragging him into the room. 

Inside was a studio. A full blown studio, just inside a room. A very colorful man was ranting to a cameraman, the grey man from early was leaning against the wall next to him with a tired look on his face. 

“It really shouldn’t be that hard to keep the camera pointing at me!” He raved, throwing his arms back dramatically. The man he was yelling at didn’t even flinch. “The gun isn’t just gonna go off if I point it in your direction! I’m know my way about a gun and— Oh! Hello hon!” 

King had walked over while he was yelling— really dragging Bim now because he did  _ not  _ want to go anywhere  _ near _ that crazy guy— and had tapped his shoulder to interrupt him. King smiled widely at the colorful man, seemingly not afraid of him at all. He finally let go of Bim’s arm and instead pointed at him. 

“New!” Was all he said before dropping his arm. All attention turned to Bim, which he would’ve liked, but now knowing the person whose attention he’s stolen has a gun, he rather shrink into a speck of dust. Bim gulped and hesitantly stuck out his hand for the madman to shake.

“H-hello,” he cleared his throat and put his confident mask back on, using his charming smile. “My name is Bim Trimmer!”

The man stared a little longer, a confused look on his face before he seemed to remember something, smiling excitedly. “Bim Trimmer! Very nice to meet you―” he grabbed Bim’s hand and shook it violently, turning to look at the grey man. “Why didn’t you tell me we had a new one?”

“I was trying to,” he huffed. He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on and walked over to the colorful man. “You were too busy yelling at your employee to listen to me.” He placed a hand on his shoulder and used it to pull himself up and kiss the colorful man on his cheek, patting his shoulder before turning and heading to the door, King following him like a puppy. “I’m going to check on the Host. You two have fun talking.”

Bim tried to ignore the fear of being left alone with this man as he watched them go. He looked back over to the man and jumped to see him staring at him with an unnerving smile. Bim laughed nervously and smiled back.

“I um…” He laughed again. “I assume you’re Wilford Warfstache, correct?”

“You betcha!” He said, placing his hands on his hips. “And you’re Bim Trimmer!”

“Uhh, yeah…” Bim looked at him strangely. “I was hired for a show…” he jumped as Wilford let out a shout, like he had forgotten it.

“Right! Right right right,” he started running around the studio, the cameraman jumping out of his way and glaring at him as he almost ran into him, a strange whirring sound coming from him, Bim assumed it was the camera that was doing it. “Well, not right. I hired you alright, because I’m supposed to, but really you will be part of my crew! Google here needs a little help around the studio―” he grabbed Bim’s arm tightly as he came to his side again, leaning down to whisper to him. “He’s not very good at any of this.” He let go and smiled at the cameraman, as if he wasn’t talking about him. The man― Google― glared back, blue eyes flashing dangerously. 

Bim stared at the man a little longer as Wilford went back to running around the room and explaining everything. The ‘G’ on his chest was glowing as well as his eyes, and he moved stiffly as he fiddled with the camera. His fingers twitched a little and he growled. Google is definitely not human. He wondered how many of these people are actually people, no doubt that grey man isn’t human either. 

“Oh, Bim!” Wilford threw him out of his thoughts. He turned to look at him, and saw that he was on the stage now. “Are you hungry at all? Google has taken to cooking now― he insisted to do it because he thinks he still needs to do things around the house, assistant android and what not― he can cook you something if you want.”

Bim blinked, looking over at Google to see him staring at him for an answer as well. “I um…” Bim was starving, literally, but he’s not sure he wants to get in the way of anything. Plus, there was something else concerning him. “Android?”

Google was the one to answer. “I-I am a Google pro-prototype,” he stepped away from the camera and walked towards Bim. “What-t-t would you like to-o eat, Mr. Trimmer-r?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he shook his head, trying to be polite. “I have food at my apartment.” That was a lie. The only thing he had in his apartment was a sad amount of fruits and granola. He would kill for a human liver though― 

He shook his head, shutting his eyes tightly so he didn’t have to think about it.  _ What was wrong with him?  _ He refused to do that again, and he absolutely  _ was not _ going to kill someone for it. He wasn’t going to do that ever again, no matter how much his body might want it.

“You alright Bimmy?” he blinked his eyes open and put on his mask again. He looked up and smiled at Wilford. 

“Oh yeah,” he laughed, waving it off. “No, no I’m fine. Not hungry, but I would like to know more about the people I’ll be working with. Besides you and Google, who else is there?”

Wilford smiled back and hopped off the stage. He wrapped his arm across Bim’s shoulder and pulled him towards the door. Google followed behind them, staring at Bim with his eyes narrowed.

“Well, you’ll be working in the studio, so just me and Googs, but you will run into the others in this manor a bit.” They left the room and were making their way down the halls, going every which way, a little disorientating. “We have Dark, King, Host, Dr. Iplier, Silver, and Google! Dark is the edgy looking one― he’s taken so don’t even think about it, Prince Charming― you meet King already I assume, Host is currently locked away in his library, Doc and Dark are with him now to make sure he’s okay, and Silver is… somewhere. Can’t remember if he lives with us or not…” 

Bim blinked at the onslaught of information, Wilford coming to a stop in front of a door. He whipped around and smiled down at him.

“Well, this is your room!” he opened the door widely and gestured him inside. Bim stepped inside and looked around, humming softly. Not much, but it definitely had potential, a lot better than his shitty apartment.

“I didn’t know I would be living here…” Bim mumbled, shedding his coat and tossing it on the bed. “I would have brought my things then.”

“Oh, no problem there!” Wilford exclaimed. With a snap of his fingers, all of Bim’s belongings were in the room. Bim yelped as he grabbed some of his plants before they crashed to the floor and shatter, Google doing the same with the other plants. Wilford only watched the rest tumble to the floor with a smile. “Better get settled in Bimmy Boy! You came just in time too! Christmas is coming up and it’ll be yours, Silver’s, and Google’s first Christmas!” He was still yammering on as he walked out the door, leaving Bim and Google to clean up the mess he made.

“How the hell did he do that?” Bim gasped as he grabbed as much as he could and put it on his desk. 

“I-I-I don’t-t know,” Google deadpanned, doing the same as Bim. “Wil-Wilford has some sort-t-t of magic-c. You’ll get us-used to-o it.”

Bim let out a whine at that. He looked at the pile and frowned before helping Google pick up. His boss was some magic madman, living with a robot, probably a demon of some kind, and a bunch of weirdos, some he hadn’t even meet! He sighed and tried making conversation with Google as they worked, asking questions and such. He might as well get along with someone if he’s going to be living here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Bimmy!! Pretty light hearted chapter. Next is Ed and it's pretty basic and short, Ed's an easy fella, but I still love him.


	8. Ed Edgar

Yep, this is the place. Ed knocked heavily against the huge double doors, shoving his hands in his pocket with his thumbs sticking out once he was done. 

He had gotten a call from a creepy voice over the phone that goes by the name the Host. The man said they wanted him for a commercial, him and his product. Ed had hopped on his feet and was running to his truck in an instant. No one ever wanted to advertise his business, all they did was call the police for “child trafficking,” which is just ridiculous! Ed would never hurt a child! His children were all in safe hands with him, as he told the police when they raided his orphanage. They even had the nerve to tell him to “say his words carefully” and to hire someone for advertising because he was “misleading people of what his business was.” A load of bullshit if you ask him.

The door opened and Ed smirked at the short man who answered. The man was wearing a suit and tie, hair slicked back but still soft looking, and glasses. He gave Ed a charming smile and extended a hand to him.

“Hello there,” he started as Ed grabbed his hand and gave it a firm shake. “I’m Bim Trimmer. You must be Ed Edgar than?”

“That’s right sir,” Ed boomed, taking his hand back and stuffing it back in his pocket. “Might I say, you have quite a nice home here. I assumed the man owning it would dress mighty fine.” He winked at Bim.

Bim blushed harshly. Coughing into his shoulder, he gestured for Ed to follow him inside. “So you work for a…?”

“Baby buying business,” he finished, looking around at the decor. “Baby’s can’t sell themselves sadly. Need an adult to do that for them.”

Bim glanced behind him warily. “You uhh―” he cleared his throat. “You sell babies? Like child trafficking?” 

“What? No!”  _ How did people keep getting that? _ “No no, I take care of my kids well! Make sure they get into good homes and everything!”

Bim relaxed, turning a corner. “Oh… just an orphanage then.”

“Of course! I dunno how people keep messing that up.” Ed grumbled darkly behind his mustache. The amount of times he’s had to explain that to everyone is just tiring.

“Well, the fact you call it selling and not adopting is pretty confusing.” Bim stopped at a door and lead Ed inside. “Hey boss! The new guy is here!” he shouted, now inside the studio. 

Ed looked around with a hum. He didn’t question how an entire studio fit in the mansion, he’s seen enough cyborg babies and demon children to know that normal doesn’t really exist. Overall, the studio is much nicer than the ratty barn he used to advertise. 

“You ain’t the boss then?” He questioned Bim, still looking around. 

Bim was looking around too, presumably looking for his boss. “Nope, I’m just the guy that answers the door. I’ve been told that I give a much more friendly and inviting vibe than the others.” Both Ed and Bim looked at each other at the same time. The suited man smiled. “But don’t worry, you’re flirting will work on Wilford too.” He teased.

“Someone say my name?” A man appeared next to Bim, making the shorter jump and press a hand against his chest, glaring up at him.

“Yes,” he tried to calm his hammering heart, sending his glare to Ed when he laughed. “We got Mr. Edgar here with us. Where’s Host?”

Wilford completely ignored his question. Instead, he broke out an eerie smile and grabbed Ed’s hand right out his pocket to shake it. “Hello there, Ed Edgar,” he exclaimed, not even giving the cowboy time to respond before he launched into his next sentence. “You will love it here I’m sure. Do you have all your things? I assume Host told you of your situation over the phone? Oh well, If not I can always get your stuff for you.” He stopped violently shaking Ed’s hand and raised his own to snap. Before he could, Bim grabbed his arm and slowly brought it down to his side again.

“No no,” he laughed nervously. “We don’t need to do that again, Wilford.” Bim turned to Ed. “Do you have your stuff? You really just need your clothes and a few sentimental items for your room.”

“He might’ve said somethin' about rooms,” Ed shrugged his shoulders. “I was a little too excited to really listen. I’ll get them all later.” he glossed over the fact that he would be living here now. He’s pretty sure his farm will get on fine without him, and it’s only thirty minutes away anyhow. “Will I be meeting Host or no?”

“Oh, you will eventually,” Wilford shrugged, moving past them both and going down the hall. They quickly followed him. “He’s probably with his new sweetheart at the moment. I need to tell Darky about you’re arrival, Bim will settle you into a room, won’t you Bimmy?” He turned to the shorter and smiled down at him. Bim rolled his eyes and nodded. Wilford let out a happy exclaim, clapping his employee on the shoulder before disappearing. Bim nodded for Ed to follow.

“Say,” Ed started up the conversation again. “How many people are living here? Besides the three of us, of course.”

“About uhh… six ish?” he answered. “Yeah six. A lot I know, but most stay in their places and are pretty mellow. Wilford is the biggest pain in the neck, King is a close second.” He stopped at a door and pushed it open. “This will be your room for now. It’s pretty plain for now, but once you got all your stuff, it’ll be a lot nicer.”

Ed hummed and looked around at the room. He can definitely get used to this cozy living. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “A lot of people never phased me. I used to live with a bunch of babies and nothing’s worse than that.” He joked, smiling at Bim as he laughed.

“I would probably avoid bringing those kids here,” he leaned against the doorway. “A lot of the people here aren’t the best.”

Ed shrugged and dropped down on his bed. Oh yeah, he can definitely get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eddie's pretty simple, but I do like this chapter. Also Yancy and Illinois will be a part of this too!! Next up is the King of FNAF!!


	9. Night Guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not related to New Job, that's just a completely different thing.

Mike shifted in his seat as breakfast was served, still watching the robot nervously.  _ Of course, it’s robots. _ The robot set the plate in front of him, narrowing its eyes as Mike leaned away. 

The night before, Mike got a new job at the manor, working as a security guard for everyone in it. He found it suspicious that he got a notification for it, but it also said they hired convicts, so he really can’t be picky. Mr. Warfstache, or Wilford as he insisted to be called, barely even looked him over before dragging him inside. He told him all about the manor and the people inside it, and even what his role was in it. To be honest, Mike wasn’t really paying attention after Wilford went into a whole confusing explanation. 

When he was done, he told Mike good luck and not to freak out and shoot Dark― who was the boss…? Again Mike wasn’t really listening to that whole spiel― if he sees him walking around. And then he was gone. And Mike was left in a dark and creepy mansion with no idea what he was doing.

After that train wreck of a first night, he was now sitting at the dining table and getting stared at. Currently, he was being stared at by a man with no eyes.

“You are an interesting one, Mike,” he had said after not saying anything for the entire time he was sitting across from him. “You exist, but as a substitute. The closest soul matching the story…” He trailed off and went back to quiet mumbling.

Mike shivered in discomfort― God that guy is freaky― and had turned to look at the hallway, hoping someone else would come in and save him from this uncomfortable situation. His prayers were answered, but not in the way he liked as the robot entered the room.

And now here he was, hunched in his seat as more people came into the room and the robot buzzed around the room to give everyone their food. 

A short scream startled Mike out of where he retreated into his head and his head snapped up. He caught the eye of some person in a mask, but also pajamas, with his hands up ready to fight. 

“Wha―” the masked man began before clearing his throat and lowered his arms. The alien-like black eyes of his mask narrowed. “Who are you?”

Mike opened his mouth to answer, but the bandaged man answered for him.

“Mike Schmidt,” he turned back to look at him and leaned forward and smiled. “He’s a new ego. And a very special one at that. Unique.”

Mike’s face started to heat up and he hunched further in his seat. Ego… he has some memory of Wilford talking about that. 

“Well, hello Mike.” An enthusiastic voice came from beside him, again making Mike jump. He turned to see a man smiling at him, donning a fluffy bed head and glasses. He looked harmless. “My name is Bim Trimmer! I don’t think we’ve met yet.” he stuck out his hand for Mike to shake. He took it hesitantly and smiled nervously back. “Usually I’m the person to welcome a new guy in, you must have come while I was asleep. Have you been introduced to the others?”

Mike shook his head. He liked Bim. “I’ve met Wilford, and Dark a bit, but no one else.” He threw a glance at the bandaged man who was still staring at him.

“Oh! Okay so we have the Host, Google, and Silver Shephard here now―” Bim pointed at them each as he listed the names. No wonder the bandaged man kept saying the Host over and over again. “Then there is Dr. Iplier, King of the Squirrels, and Ed Edgar are the others you haven’t met yet. And… I think that’s everyone!”

Mike nodded, staring off into space again.  _ Fuck there’s a lot of people.  _ Thankfully, he’s a night guard and doesn’t need to be with the others that much.

“Host, stop staring I think you’re scaring him,” Wilford scolded, coming out of nowhere and dropping down in the seat next to Host. Google placed a plate in front of him and he scarfed it down quickly. He pointed his fork at Host as he continued talking. “I’m not sure Doc will be quite happy with you flirting with someone else.”

“What won’t I be happy about?” Another person came stumbling into the room, going straight for the kitchen, a younger man following after him. 

“Host is flirting with someone else!” Wilford shouted. “Ow― hey!” Host was slapping him with his coat sleeve and blushing furiously. Some bloody tears running down his cheeks.

“Host don’t hit him,” the man came back from the kitchen with a mug of coffee and sitting next to Host, thanking Google softly as the robot put food out in front of him. “Dark will have your head on a stick if you hurt him.”

Host huffed and went back to his own food. “…The Host wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled. 

“I know you weren’t, dear,” he leaned over and gave him a quick peek on a not so bloody part of his cheek. He finally seemed to notice Mike and gave a tired smile. “Oh, hello. You must be new. I’m Edward, but most people call me Dr. Iplier.”

“Hey,” Mike smiled shakily. This was all too much interaction for him for one day. The young man from early that followed Edward came in with a jar of peanut butter and sat next to Mike with a soft smile, sticky fingers stuffed in his mouth. “I’m uhh, Mike. I’m the new night guard so you guys won’t see much of me, sorry.” 

“That’s alright,” Dr. Iplier shrugged. “Where are Dark and Edgar?”

“Dark is in his office already, and I think Edgar might be sick?” Wilford answered, looking around at the others. Google was the one to answer, its blue iris’s spinning like a loading screen.

“Ed Edgar is sick-ck,” its eyes stopped and he brought up a screen in front of his chest. On it, was a bedroom, a shivering lump on the bed. “My guess is that he- he got it from o-one of his kids. I-I-I suggest l-locking him in his ro-room to make sure no one else gets s-s-sick.”

Mike stiffed, eyes wide and staring at the robot. Logically, he knew that Google made sense, but his mind was just screaming  _ it’s gonna kill him it’s gonna kill him it’s gonna kill him.  _ The android had _cameras _on them all. Usually Mike is the one with the cameras, but now all he had was a flashlight oh god _he was going to die here. _

His shaking was probably getting worse― that or maybe he was hyperventilating― because someone was calling out to him and trying to get his attention. Someone grabbed his shoulder and he jerked away, suddenly aware of how heavy he was breathing.

“Woah uhh,” Bim was the one that grabbed him, looking at him worriedly. “Are you okay? Is it the same thing as Silver cause I’m sure you’ll be fine―”

“He-e’s s-scared,” Google interrupted, making Mike stiffen because it sounds  _ a lot  _ closer than he was a second ago. He jerked his head to the side and saw  _ it  _ staring at him. “He’s scar-r-ed of me.”

“I-I,” Mike’s shaking was getting worse. Someone― Dr. Iplier by the looks of it― pulled Google away to give him a little more space. “I don’t like robots…”

Google’s expression turned sour at that and opened its mouth to object, but the Host interrupted it, standing up and pushing Google away and handing it his empty plate. “Mike Schmidt has severe trauma related to robots― specifically animatronics― trying to kill him. The Host assures Google that Mike will get used to him, but it will take a while.”

Google continued to scowl at the entryway of the kitchen. It turned to Mike and he froze. “I am-am not a r-r-robot I am syn-nthetic life.” And with that, he stormed into the kitchen.

Mike relaxed slightly, but he looked over to Host suspiciously. “How did you know that?” This whole time, Host has been staring at and talking about Mike like he was some sort of experiment he was particularly excited to see the result of. Sure, Mike was a very cautious and paranoid person, but if a blind man with bloody bandages know about your life and traumas, you would be suspicious too.

Turning fully to Mike and shoving his hands in his pockets nonchalantly, The Host only smiled. “I know everything about you Mike,” he replied, for once not speaking in third person, which was somehow more terrifying. “It’s all in the books.” He turned on his heel and went down the hall.

Mike shuddered and looked at the others, he couldn’t be the only one freaked out right. The others only seemed to roll their eyes, and some giggled at the little show Host put on. 

“Don’t worry about him,” Wilford laughed, standing up with his plate and heading to the kitchen. “Host has always been very dramatic.”

“You get used to it,” Dr. Iplier tossed on to the end of Wilford’s sentence. “Now, if you’re a night guard, you should probably get to bed. Has Wilford shown you to a room?” Mike shook his head. The doctor hummed. “Well, I’ll be a little busy with doing the dishes and cleaning up the Host after that, but I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind showing you to it.” He smiled at the other three.

Bim gasped and clapped his hands excitedly. The peanut butter man― King? Maybe… That was the only one left from Bim’s list earlier― squealed and hopped slightly in his chair.

“Uh no,” Silver shook his head, crossing his arms over his pajama shirt. His mouth― the only thing not covered by his mask― was pulled into a thin line. “I’m not going anywhere near Ed’s room. I’ll stay here.” As if to prove his point, he marched off to the living room and crashed down on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv.

“Sucks for you,” Bim yelled to him, jumping to his feet and grabbing Mike’s hand, yanking him towards the hallway. King followed close behind with a giggle. “Come on! We can show you around too!”

Mike already felt exhausted and he barely been at this place one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mike is one of my favorites. You won't get to see him much cause he's a night guard but I love him lots. Next is our girl Yandere!!!


	10. Yandere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place right after Little Warfstache so I'd read that first

After being shown her room and got settled, Yan decided to meet some of her other roommates. She’s only met Bim and Dark so far, but Wilford had told her that there was a lot more around, so she might as well meet them. She walked around the manor, not really looking for somewhere specific, just hoping to run into someone and chat. The place was  _ huge.  _ If she had known how great her father’s life was, she would’ve found him earlier.

Yan didn’t even hear the footsteps before someone crashed into her, both of them tumbling onto the floor. Her head hit the floor with an audible crack, her ears ringing. She groaned and tried to bring a hand up to her head only to find out they were pinned, one to her chest and the other twisted under her back.

“Jesus, King,” a voice shouted from somewhere above her, making her wince. “You ran someone over!”

“There usually aren’t people…” the person that was on top of her mumbled. King― she assumed― pushed off of her and a gloved hand grabbed her unpinned arm and pulled her up. “Sorry…”

“It’s fine,” Yan groaned again as she got to her feet. She looked at the person that helped her up and blinked a little in surprise to be met with a mask. In fact, the person looked to be completely decked out in a spandex suit. The person that ran her over had a costume as well, a king outfit to be specific. “I um… I’m Yan.”

The two looked at each other. “My name’s Silver Shepherd,” the one with the superhero costume stuck out his hand for Yan to shake. “My friend here is King. Sorry he hit you by the way.”

Yan shook his hand and smiled, all though a forced one because her head was still pounding. “I would say nice to meet you, but every sound is a knife through my skull,” King mumbled another sorry, looking down at the floor and playing with his fingers. “No, it’s okay. Just… there’s a doctor around here right?” She thinks she remembers her father saying something about a doctor.

“Oh right,” Silver answered, grabbing her hand again and leading her down the hall, King following behind, still looking guilty. “Right this way, sir!”

Yan flinched, but didn’t correct him.

Silver opened a door that had a plaque on it that read ‘The Clinic'. He dropped her hand and told Yan he was going to tell Dr. Iplier and she can sit with King on one of the chairs. He went over to two other men, one with a doctor’s uniform and another with a trench coat. Yan sat in the chairs with King, the two in a bit of awkward silence as they waited for the doctor.

“Why are you here?” King asked suddenly, startling Yan. 

Yan opened her mouth to respond, but stopped. Was she not wanted? Did King not like her or something? God, she hoped it wasn’t because of the trans thing.

“You know like,” King started up again when Yan didn’t respond. “Everyone here is here for something. I dunno why I’m here, or why Silver’s here, but Dr. Iplier is here to take care of us and Bim is here to work with Wilford.”

Yan let out a soft sigh in relief. So he didn’t hate her, just bad at wording his questions. 

“I came here to live with my dad, Wilford.” She answered. 

“Wilford’s your—“ King’s sentence was cut off as Dr. Iplier and Silver came over, followed by the man in the trench coat.

“Hello Yan,” Dr. Iplier gave her a tired smile. “I’m Dr. Iplier and behind me is the Host. He wanted to meet you as well. Silver here told me you might have a concussion?” 

Yan shrugged. “I don’t think it’s a concussion, but I did hit my head pretty hard.” 

Dr. Iplier nodded and lifted her chin with his hand, looking deep into her eyes. Yan blushed fiercely, audibly gulping. 

“How do you feel?” He asked nonchalantly. 

“I-I um,” She felt like she was going to explode because of how gently he was holding her chin, like fairytale prince. “A-a little dizzy, but I’m okay.” She heard someone behind Dr. Iplier laugh and that just made her face burn hotter. 

Dr. Iplier hummed in thought, letting go of her chin. “Your eyes dilated evenly so that’s good,” he mumbled as he wrote something down on his clipboard. “However, your face is very warm and if you feel dizzy, you might have a mild concussion. I suggest staying here until you start to feel better or worse.”

Yan nodded, keeping her head down in embarrassment. 

“She’s fine Dr. Iplier,” the Host, who Yan forgot was here, spoke up from behind the doctor. “She does not have a concussion, she’s just… embarrassed.” He grinned at at Yan as she looked up, making eye contact with clean bandages over his eyes. 

“I still find it necessary for her to—“ 

“Wait she?” Silver interrupted Dr. Iplier. He glanced comically in between Host and Yan. 

“Yeah?” Yan’s voice raised in pitch, a subconscious thing she does whenever she feels self conscious.

“I called you sir earlier, I’m sorry.” Silver apologized, looking just as guilty as King did earlier. “There are only men around here and Wilford wears feminine clothes sometimes so I just kind of assumed you were male.”

“It’s nothing, that happens a lot.” Yan smiled nervously and brought her hand up to play with her hair. She had it longer, but then her mom forced her to cut it to make it more boyish.

“Yan is trans,” Host said, before jumping as both Silver and Dr. Iplier yelled at him. “What? She is? So is Bim, Mike, and—“

“Host!” Dr. Iplier shouted, glaring at the man behind him. “That’s not nice to just announce to everyone. That’s for them to tell us.” He scolded. Host shrank into his trench coat.

“It’s fine,” Yan said quickly, trying to save poor Host from their glares. “It’s pretty obvious to guess—“

“It’s not fine,” Dr. Iplier grunted out, but he nudged Silver to stop glaring. “Host still needs to learn to stay out of people’s person lives. It took me a while just to agree to go out with him because he wouldn’t stop giving me extremely personal gifts and making me uncomfortable by reading my thoughts.”

Host blushed, mumbling about how Dr. Iplier still liked the gifts. Said doctor rolled his eyes and pulled Host to the side and away from the others as he denied it. Despite his angry attitude, he gave Host a kiss. Host returned it with a smile, relaxing against him. Yan smiled as well, they seemed to have a very cute relationship.

“Wilford is your dad?” King spoke up, finishing his earlier sentence. His question caused the others to look at him too. 

“What?” Yan questioned. “Oh um, yeah. He’s my dad. Why is that bad?” She looked around at everyone’s shocked reactions. No one answered her question, instead, the room exploded into other questions.

“Does Dark know about this?”

“Is he cheating again?”

“How old even are you?”

“Is Dark the mom then?”

They all stared at SIlver. “What?” he asked. “It’s a legit question.”

“No, Dark isn’t my mom,” Yan couldn’t help but laugh at that, covering her giggling with her hand. “I’m only related to Wilford as far as I know. And I’m 14.” Dr. Iplier made a noise at that, mumbling that that was way too young to be living here.

“Is he cheating again?” King asked again, sounding scared. Yan looked over him and was surprised at how upset he looked. Why was he so upset about this? What did he mean about again?

“No King,” Silver said gently, kneeling down in front of him. “Yan is 14 so that was a very long time ago. He probably cheated then, but Wilford isn’t cheating again.” King nodded in understanding, sniffling. Silver rubbed his knee in comfort.

“Was Wilford cheating on Dark?” Yan asked. She felt her heart sink at the thought of her being a result of adultery. How did Dark not hate her? He probably did, he was probably faking being nice to her.

“He did,” Yan tore her eyes away from King and looked over to Dr. Iplier. “Wilford is… he was in a rough spot I suppose. He doesn’t anymore, Dark found out not that long ago. It was… a hard time for all of us. Dark, of course, was pissed off. He wouldn’t let Wilford leave the house for a bit, which pissed of Wilford because he needed to work, but they worked it out.” He nodded towards King and Sliver. “King took it the hardest, he was really scared that they would break up.”

Yan bit her lip and stared down at her lap. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here then,” she whispered. “I don’t want to upset Dark, having to see a product of Wilford’s cheating everyday.”

“Oh no,” Yan felt a hand land in her hair, petting it softly. She looked up and saw Host had came over to comfort her. “Don’t say that Yan. It will take Dark some time, he is still healing after all, but he will grow to love you like you are his own.” He smiled down at her. “Trust the Host, he can see the future.”

Yan let out a sudden laugh at that, covering it with her hand. She mumbled a soft thank you to the Host. Dr. Iplier came over to rub her shoulder, telling her she’s free to go if she feels like she is okay. Silver hopped to his feet and excitedly invited Yan to play cops and robbers with him and King― apparently that’s why King ran her over― and she happily agreed. So far, she liked her new family, even if it was a bit chaotic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yanny!!! I love her she's such a cutie!! Next up is the Jims and they are very interesting


	11. Camera Jim

CJ held up his camera as they stalked the manor. Him and his brother have been here many times before. They’ve had demands from their boss to watch the people inside, and they have for over a month now. The only ones that really left are the alien and the suited man. CJ and RJ have yet to talk to either because of strict orders not to interact with the subjects. RJ was having a much harder time following through with that than CJ.

“Jim, Jim,” RJ slapped his brother’s arm rapidly, making the camera jerk slightly. CJ slapped him back and they got into a small slap fight behind their bush. “Ow―  _ ow! stop it―  _ look!” He whisper yelled as he pointed CJ’s camera towards the garden. 

The king was there, along with the suited man and a new person, a girl by the looks of it. CJ zoomed in on the three. The suited man looked to be showing her the flowers and talking about them, the king watching with interest, a squirrel perched on his shoulder. The king always had squirrels on his person, a fact they told their source and had him yelling at them to focus on other things and not squirrels. 

RJ sudden got in front of the camera, making his brother jump and quickly zoom out. “It seems there is a new member of the group,” he whispered to the camera, way closer than he needed to be, but then again there wasn’t a lot of room in their bush. “A lady Jim. Very, very pretty. I should have red hair, don’t you think Jim?” CJ glared at his brother and made a gesture with his head for RJ to move. “Oh, right right. Back to you, Jim.” He nodded and moved away for CJ to zoom back into the group.

CJ let out a shriek as his camera zoomed right in to the king’s face staring right at them. He jumped to his feet as his scream caught the attention of the others and grabbed his brother’s shoulder to run away.

The scream must’ve alerted people inside because when they turned around to run, two new and  _ very familiar _ men stood in front of them. RJ yelped and hid behind his brother. The two men were William and Damien. Damien was bristling and glaring, but William grinned at the two brothers. 

“Look Darky,” he turned to his friend with his frightening smile. “We got two now! That’s never happened before!”

Damien narrowed his eyes. CJ and RJ gulped and smiled nervously in sync. Maybe they can get out of this alive and tell their boss that they’ve been found out. Speaking of, was the camera still rolling? CJ risked a glance at his camera and saw that it was and pointing at the two men’s feet. He raised it just slightly and yelped as Damien grabbed it.

“Why have you two been recording us?” he inquired dangerously. William rolled his eyes and shoved his friend’s shoulder.

“Oh come on Dark,” he drawled. “They are obviously reporters! Say, that can come in handy in the studio…” William trailed off and suddenly they were all teleported inside a studio. William smiled wider, looking around as if not realizing that he had moved them inside.

The twins yelped and clung to each other as the looked around as well, expecting torture weapons and their impending doom to be surrounding them. But no, it was just a normal looking studio, a much nicer one than the one they were working at now actually. William has walked off from the twins and Damien had left them as well, going in a separate room filled with screens, taking CJ’s camera with him. 

“Wh-what are y-you gonna do to us?” RJ voiced from where he was desperately hugging his brother.

William popped his head up from whatever he was doing wherever he was do it and looked at the two in confusion. “I’m not gonna do anything to ya?” he got up and walked over to the twins. “Why would you think I’d hurt you? If this is about the ‘murder spree’ I was apparently a part of I assure you that my old friend Abe―”

“Our uhh,” CJ interrupted, tightening his grip on his brother. “Our boss t-told us you aren’t a very nice person. You and Damien.”

“Damien?” William reeled back in confusion. A door slammed open and Damien was storming back into the room, blue and red outlines writhing in his frame. CJ and RJ cowered further, shrinking into themselves as Damien got closer.

“Who are you working for?” he snapped, his aura lashing out at the twins. They both cried out and pressed harder against each other. “Who are you working for?” He roared when he got no answer.

“We don’t know! He won’t tell us his real name!” RJ cried out, burying his face into his brother’s shoulder. “H-he says he’s the Actor!” CJ finished off.

Damien seemed to bristle more at that. He lashed out again and grabbed CJ by the throat, choking off a shout. He held up his camera for them both to see, gripping it so tightly that the metal was starting to bend. Damien tightened his grip on the camera, crushing it in his hand and dropping it to the floor, glass from the lens breaking and making CJ whimper. Damien pulled him closer and growled low in his throat as he looked in between them, hate and fury burning in his mismatched eyes.

“How long have you been recording us?” his voice still echoed with two as he asked, looking at RJ to answer. 

“J-just over a month now,” he answered, trembling against his brother’s chest, worriedly looking between Damien and his hand that was still choking CJ. It wasn’t hard enough to kill him, but it was still slowly squeezing out every breath still in his lungs. “Please don’t kill him. W-we’re sorry for ever bothering you  _ please― _ ”

CJ took a big, gasping breath as Damien let him go. He collapsed against RJ, shaking like a leaf and clinging to him as he struggled to suck in air. 

“Damien―” 

“Don’t call me that,” Damien turned on William, fury still keeping him going. “That’s not my name and you know that. That  _ bastard  _ is sending  _ spies  _ to watch us. He knows we’re here. He could be planning something big and it could get everyone hurt―” 

“Dam― Dark,” William corrected himself, looking conflicted. “Whoever this Actor fellow is, I’m sure we’ll be okay. We’ve survived Author, we can survive this.”

“Author is nothing compared to  _ him _ ,” Dark hissed. He looked back at the twins and narrowed his eyes. “They can’t leave. Lock them in one of the rooms and make sure they can’t leave.” 

William hesitated, looking between the twins and sighed. He walked over to them, ignoring the way they whimpered and cringed away. William only needed to touch one of them to teleport them both considering that they were still clinging to each other. 

CJ shot Dark one last look before they disappeared and shivered at the intensity in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEah the plots back baBY!!! Anyway yeah the Jims are split into two chapters because it's fun. See ya next week with Reporter Jim!!


	12. Reporter Jim

They both appeared in a clinic looking room and dropped onto a bed. William had teleported with them and was sitting in a chair next to the bed.

“Fuck,” someone swore to their left and the twins whipped their heads towards the sound. Near the door, a man in a doctor’s uniform was getting up from his desk and heading over to them. “Who are these guys?”

“I dunno,” William answered with a shrug. The doctor made a disapproving sound when he saw CJ’s neck and turned back around to head over to a bunch of cabinets on the far wall. “We never really got their names.”

“My name is Jim,” RJ spoke up from above CJ. They had switched positions, CJ was now pressed against RJ’s chest shaking and RJ was protecting him. “And this is my brother Jim. Some people call us RJ― that’s me― and CJ though.” William only let out a hum as the doctor came back over with a tube of ointment. 

“Well, I’m Dr. Iplier,” the doctor said as he tapped CJ’s back. He flinched, but peeked out from his brother’s chest a little to watch Dr. Iplier. “Sorry to scare you, but I need to fix you up. How did this happen?”

CJ had moved to let Dr. Iplier look at his neck, but stiffened when he asked what happened. He refused to talk, too afraid to, but thankfully his brother’s ever running mouth talked for him.

“We were doing our job and recording the mansion, but then the king saw us and our cover was blown!” he shouted, clutching his brother’s hand tighter as he threw the other hand out as he explained. “Then the men our boss warned us about found us! William―” He pointed at the man sitting next to them. “Moved us into a studio and Damien took Jim’s camera and watched the footage and came back to yell at us. He almost killed Jim!”

“William?” Dr. Iplier questioned, looking towards the man. William shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Okay that makes a little sense… Who’s Damien then?”

“That was Dark’s old name,” William responded. “I don’t know how these guys knew that. He hasn’t gone by that in  _ years _ .”

“Our boss told us,” RJ answered William’s implied question. “He said that you and Damien are what we were supposed to be watching. He said that you guys have been a danger to him for years, trying to mess with his ‘plans,’ whatever that means.” Dr. Iplier finished putting the cream on CJ’s neck and smiled reassuringly at him.

“Dark has been looking for him for a long time,” William said. “For whatever reason I dunno, but I’m not surprised he sent one of his own to watch us.”

“Should we be worried?” Dr. Iplier sounded beyond nervous as he moved back to put away the tube and wash his hands. “I mean, I have no doubt that you and Dark, even Host and Silver can handle a threat no problem, but we have other people here that are at risk.” 

William furrowed his brows together and rubbed his jaw. “That is true,” he looked up and meet RJ’s eyes. He kept his eyes as he continued. “Maybe I’ll teach some of the others how to handle themselves in case this Actor fella ever does attack.” He narrowed his eyes slightly, making RJ gulp and move a little closer to his brother. William turned back to the Dr. Iplier as he approached again. “Darky suggested that we keep the Jims here just in case.”

“Imprison them?” Dr. Iplier raised an eyebrow at William in surprise. “Don’t you think that will get his attention?”

“I don’t think he’d care,” RJ said quickly. Out the corner of his eye, he could see CJ’s head snap up and stare at him in disbelief. “He is kinda self absorbed and… mean. He’ll probably just think we ran off a cliff and died.” RJ and his brother were known for running off and doing whatever they pleased. Their boss has yelled at them constantly about not staying focused in their footage and how close they are to being fired. In this case, literally set on fire. Again, their boss isn’t very nice. 

CJ couldn’t seem to believe what he was saying though.

“We’ll stay here willingly if you all promise one thing,” RJ looked down at his brother to reassure him that he knew what he was doing. He looked back up to see both of them stare at him and nod. “Don’t hurt us. This is pretty much our escape from our boss anyway, but we’d like to be somewhere  _ safe,  _ not more dangerous.” CJ gripped RJ tighter, waiting for their answer.

William smiled, and for a brief moment RJ was worried that he would deny it, but he gave another nod. “That’s no problem at all,” he drawled out, looking over at Dr. Iplier with his creepy grin. “I’ll tell Darky about this. Oh!” William suddenly jerked up right in his chair, making everyone jump. “Best if you two start calling him Dark if you want to stay here, no Damien or Celine bull. He’ll gut you like a fish.”

Dr. Iplier furrowed his brow at the other name mentioned, but the twins just nodded rapidly. “Thank you, God thank you, William.” RJ blubbered, going limp against his brother, who was also thanking him in relief.

“Now now,” he laughed, interrupting their thanks. “You can call me Wilford. And if I can convince Dark, you too can pay us back for your safety.”

The twins nodded rapidly again at Wilford. “Whatever you want.” RJ said.

“Within reason.” CJ added on.

“You two have experience in a studio, correct?” Wilford asked, rubbing his chin in thought. The two nodded again.

“Yes,” RJ verbally answered. “We were in charge of all the tech back at our job. We can work mics, cameras, lights, and pretty much whatever.” Wilford made a happy sound at that.

“Well that’s dandy,” he chuckled, dropping his hand back on the arm of the chair. “You two will work with a few others around the studio in exchange for our protection. Boy, isn’t this gonna be fun to tell Dark…” He mumbled the last bit to himself, still giggling softly.

RJ and CJ sighed in relief, still pressed against each other, but much more relaxed. They’ll be fine. They just hoped RJ was right about their old boss not caring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JIMS DONE!!! Okay next up is Bing and I actually like his story.


	13. Bing

Bing was powered on and immediately put on a smile, his social programming kicking in. 

He was met with screaming.

“You can’t just go out and buy one without someone with you!” the grey man shouted at the colorful man next to him. “You were supposed to be getting groceries for dinner tonight!”

“I did!” the colorful man that bought him brought up a bag filled with food and Bing’s charger. “And I had someone with me! I had Bim!”

“Oh god please don’t bring me into this―” another, shorter, man off to the colorful man’s right pleaded, getting cut off by the grey man again.

“You watched as he bought this thing?” he snapped at the shorter man who shrank under his scowl.

“No,” he mumbled. “He… well yes. But he told me that this was another ego! I thought that was the whole plan!” Shorter man flinched when Grey man’s blue and red outline lashed at him. So that wasn’t a visual glitch, he just had that.

“You can’t be so careless,” Grey man was starting to calm down, his stress levels going slowly from 89% down to 65%. He turned to Colorful man. “Never pull something like this again, Wilford. We can’t rely on your luck.” Wilford rolled his eyes and turned to Bing, grinning widely when he saw him awake.

“Oh!” he cheered, removing his hand from his shoulder― Bing didn’t realize it was there, but the whole argument kinda distracted him― and grinned widely. “He’s awake! Hello there friend!” Bing smiled back.

“Hello sir!” Bing greeted.

“Oh, none of that now,” Wilford chuckled. “You can call me Wilford!” Bing nodded, orange irises spinning as he logged that away in his notes. Wilford threw an arm around Grey man’s shoulders and pulled him to his side, Grey man struggled against him, still angry apparently. “This is my husband Dark. He’s the boss, so stay in line kid―” Bing didn’t correct him that he wasn’t a kid, instead just smiling and nodding as Wilford let go of Dark and grabbed Shorter man. “And you remember Bim from the store.”

“I don’t actually,” Bing corrected him this time with a smile. “I get my memory wiped and restarted when taken out of the store to give me a fresh start with a new family. Hello Bim.” He looked to Bim as he said the last part. Bim gave a small wave and awkward smile.

“Are you like, uhh,” Bim started badly. “Like another assistant android or something?” Bing shook his head.

“I am a companion android made by Microsoft,” his iris spun again as he searched up more information. “The main differences between assistant android and companion android is that companions have the ability to eat certain foods, to laugh, to cry, to create a personality tailored to their owner’s, and to socialize. Would you like to hear about more features?” A screen popped up in front of his chest via his logo with yes or no options. Wilford raised his hand, but Bim’s shot out to hit no before he could do anything.

“No no,” he laughed nervously. “That’s pretty neat, but maybe later.” Wilford pouted.

Bing nodded. He was glad that his search pleased them. Companions have a slower time answering and searching things because of their programming, and he was a little worried that he was taking too long compared to their assistant android, but they seemed satisfied with his ability.

“W-what the hell is-s-s this?” a new voice asked from beyond the group. They parted to look behind them and stiffened. A man in blue with a white ‘G’ glowing on his chest stood a few feet away. Another android. Bing smiled excitedly and the android frowned.

“Google!” Wilford greeted just as excited. “This here is Bing! He’s a new ego.” Bing waved at Google. He didn’t look happy. 

“Were y-y-you trying to re-replace me?” Google hissed, his voice box glitching along with his body. Bing frowned, the first time he wasn’t smiling. He seemed to be broken. Was Bing here to replace him? Is that why they asked if he was an assistant android?

“What? No!” Wilford answered their question, sounding shocked that Google would he think of that. “Bing is just a new ego.”

“An a-a-android ego-o.” Google’s head jerked to the side as he glitched. 

“Google you need to calm down,” Bim said slowly, starting to walk over to the android. “You’re going to breakdown again. We aren’t replacing you or anything, Bing is a, uh, companion android, so he’s not the same type as you. He’s not even the same company, see?” He gestured to Bing’s logo behind him. He didn’t even get a foot away from Google before he glitched violently again, whole body twitching and hissing. He didn’t look good. 

“Don’t to-touch me,” he took a quick step back from Bim, even when he stopped in his tracks. “Don’t come f-fucking near-r me-e-e… I have-ve updat-t-tes to do anyway.” He turned on his heel, giving Bing one last glare before storming off. Bim swore and rushed after him, calling out for him to calm down. 

“That android is broken,” Bing said after a moment. “What happened to his systems?” Even though these people seemed nice, Bing couldn’t help but feel a little unsafe. One quick search about assistant androids and bad behaviors showed him many articles of assistants becoming violent after traumatic experiences.

“He was broken by his former… owner,” Dark voiced beside him. “He had to have a lot of convincing from all of us that he isn’t going to be thrown away, only for Wilford to ruin that in seconds.” His voice was getting harsher with every word as he glared at his husband. Wilford at least looked guilty at that. 

“I thought he would like it!” he tried to defend himself. “It would get him someone to relate to! He can’t just talk to Bim all day about Matthias, that just makes him feel worse. And he’s not human so he can’t really relate to the rest of us.”

“Yes, because buying a completely new and perfect android will make him feel loved among the rest of us.” Dark stormed off from the two. “I’m going to check on him, to make sure he really hasn’t broken down because of your carelessness.”

Wilford huffed, but turned back to Bing, grinning like nothing was wrong. “Well, let's get you to your room. We don’t have anymore offices available, but we have plenty of rooms. We can just clear out the bed if you want.”

Bing tossed on a fake smile. He told Wilford that he didn’t need to get rid of the bed and that he could charge on that if need be. His mind continued to wonder to Google’s hateful face and the articles he found as Wilford rambled on about whatever.

Hopefully one day they’ll get along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I almost forgot to post today but Bing!! My favorite boy and my favorite chapter!! Next week is Eric!!


	14. Eric Derekson

Eric flinched as his father pulled him towards the double doors of the manor. He was close to having a full blown panic attack as they got closer. As soon as his father let go of his arm, Randal shoved himself in between them, flinching as well when Derek glared at him.

Derek woke Eric up early in the morning to tell him that a studio had hired them to advertise their merch, calling Randal to meet them at the house as well. Eric had whined slightly, but didn’t complain as his father dragged him to his car. The whole car ride to the manor, Eric was trying to stay calm while Derek instructed him what he should and should not do, stressing that this was a big break and these were very wealthy people. Every second that dragged on only scared Eric more.

Derek knocked on the door with a practiced smile, completely ignoring his son’s quiet whimper at the noise. Randal rubbed Eric’s arm in a lame attempt to help him relax.

The door opened to a short man in pajamas. He was in the middle of rubbing sleep from under his glasses, but stopped. He took a step back to look at the three. Eric felt himself flush in embarrassment, he hated being so tall. 

“Uh,” he began, clearing his throat. “Hi? You must be…?” 

“Derek Derekson from Derek Derekson’s Charity Warehouse,” Derek stuck out his hand for the man to shake. “Beside me is my employee Randal Voorhees and beside him is my son Eric.” The man nodded, a little blindsided. 

“Oh, well um,” he shook Derek’s hand and laughed. “Sorry, I’m Bim Trimmer. It’s very nice to meet you all, but it’s like, seven in the morning.” 

“I knew we weren’t supposed to be here so early.” Randal tried to laugh it off, but flinched when Derek glared at him, keeping him quiet. 

“Yes I know it’s early,” his voice was a clear warning as he glared at Randal. Derek turned back to Bim with a sly grin, as if nothing happened. “But it’s better to come early than to come late.”

“W-we are usually up at this time anyway…” Eric spoke up softly, tugging at his piece of cloth. Derek smiled at him.

“That’s right Eric,” he praised. Eric felt his stomach flutter and he smiled down at the floor. “Can we come in then?” Derek directed his words at Bim again.

“Uh, sure I guess,” Bim moved out of the say to let them inside. “The bosses aren’t up yet so you’re just going to have to relax for a bit until then, but I can show you to your rooms if you’d like?”

“That would be great actually,” Randal said, looking around at the large home. Eric wondered how he was feeling right now. He knew Randal had a small apartment that he could barely afford, it must be weird coming from that to a mansion. Maybe their rooms will be together. “I’d love to rest my eyes for a bit.”

“No resting,” Derek ordered as they all followed Bim down the halls. “We can settle in, but then we are going straight to the studio and getting ready.” 

Randal huffed, pulling his suitcase after him. Derek had told them both to pack up as much as they can, but Eric and Randal didn’t really have much. Eric was currently pulling along both his and his father’s bag. His legs ached horribly, he really just wanted to sit down for a second and rest. 

Bim showed them all to their rooms, Eric and his father were next to each other while Randal was across the hall from them. Eric placed his suitcase on his bed and sighed, bending forward and resting his head on the bed. He was so tired, the adrenaline that he felt early from his anxiety started to wear off, now just feeling sick and shaky. 

“You alright kid?” Bim asked from behind him, making him jump. Eric tried to calm his labored breathing. “You don’t look good.”

“‘m fine,” he gagged, legs giving out underneath him and knees crashing to the floor. “I’ll be fine.”

“Shit,” Eric felt a hand on his back and he flinched violently. “You should go to the clinic, you could be sick.”

“No no,” Eric attempted to shake his head, only to gag again. “I’m fine, I need to work. It’s just anxiety.”

“Kid, you look like you’re about to pass out,” Bim scolded lightly. He tugged on Eric’s arm, making him whimper softly. “Come on, let’s tell your dad and get you to the clinic.”

Eric stiffened as Bim dragged him to his feet and pull him towards his door, where his father was no doubt waiting impatiently for him to come out. Just as Eric guessed, Derek was outside the door with a frustrated look on his face. It only seemed to deepen when he saw his son’s condition.

“Are you serious Eric?” Derek snapped, cutting off Bim before he could even open his mouth. “You were perfectly fine this morning. What could have changed in the 5 minutes I left you alone in your room?”

“I’m sorry,” Eric mumbled, already feeling tears filling in his eyes. “I-I’m just… my legs hurt and my anxiety―”

“There you go again with the anxiety nonsense,” Derek threw his hands up, making Eric flinch and lean against Bim more. “You can’t keep blaming everything on that sickness. I don’t care what the doctors say, you are not getting off that easy just because you feel a little anxious.”

Eric nodded shamefully and moved to his father’s side, but Bim didn’t let go of his arm. 

“Sorry Mr. Derekson,” Bim’s voice sounded harsh and he pulled Eric back to his side. “I know you want to get working, but your son is  _ sick  _ and I’m taking him to the clinic. You and Mr. Voorhees can get started without him.” He tugged Eric along before Derek could answer. Eric whimpered and risked a glance back at his father, only to meet a furious glare. He was going to be in so much trouble.

In the clinic, Dr. Iplier― as Bim introduced him― was just waking up and stumbling around the room, a roll of bandages in his hands. He stopped and stared in confusion when they entered the room. He pointed at them.

“New guy?” he asked. Next to Eric, Bim nodded. Dr. Iplier gave a tired smile and dropped his hand. He gestured behind at the beds and chairs. “Take a seat. I just have to clean up a bit before Host gets here.”

Bim nodded again and lead Eric over to a bed, helping him lie down. He did a double take as Eric dragged his legs up on the bed. He pulled them to his chest, blushing fiercely and feeling self conscience over his dinged up prosthetics. Bim seemed to notice he was staring and blushed himself, looking back up at Eric with a calming smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“’s okay,” Eric mumbled, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on his knees when another wave of nausea flowed through him. “‘m used to people staring. Trying to save up and buy new ones, but ‘s hard to sneak past my dad.” He missed Bim’s worried look.

“Why would you need to hide it?” he asked slowly. He didn’t get an answer before Dr. Iplier came back over.

“Okay,” he sighed and put on some rectangular glasses. “Nice to meet you, my name is Dr. Iplier and your name is?” He held a clipboard in the crook of his elbow and hand and waited for Eric to answer. Eric blearily opened his eyes and swallowed harshly.

“M-my name is Eric Derekson,” he said this as if it was rehearsed, which it was. He would sometimes be so panicked that he’d forget his name, so his father made him rehearse saying his name. “I-I promise I’m fine. I’m just anxious and I always get uh, queasy when I-I’m anxious.” Dr. Iplier hummed.

“Well, you should still stay here and rest for a bit Eric,” he softened his voice slightly. Eric couldn’t understand why. “If you’re up to it, you can answer some questions for me too.”

Eric was about to nod, but stopped short as he thought about how much that made him sick, and just gave a small okay.

“I’ll go tell your father, alright?” Bim reached over and ruffled Eric’s hair, which made him flinch. Bim blinked and pulled away. He had an unreadable look on his face and glanced at the doctor. He looked back towards Eric and gave him one last smile before turning and leaving the clinic.

“So Eric,” Dr. Iplier began awkwardly, clearing his throat. “These questions are just some necessities that you may need. Things like meds and such, because from now on, that will be our boss’s job to get you.” 

Eric hesitated. His doctors had given him pills for depression and anxiety, as well as pain killers, but he hasn’t used them in years. Either his father would dump them all down the sink or just refuse to pick them up. Eric shook his head, holding his legs closer to him. Dr. Iplier eyes shot downwards for a moment at his feet before looking back at his clipboard and making a gesture like he was checking off something. 

“Well, I’d say you need something for your anxiety. Nothing to be ashamed of, a lot of people here take meds, myself included.” He gave Eric a quick smile. “Now, if you’re okay with it, I’d like to ask a few questions about your prosthetics.” 

Eric gave a small nod. He figured someone would ask questions, but he still wasn’t looking forward to it.

“Was it a traumatic injury or were you born with it?”

“Born with.” Eric answered verbally this time. The doctor wrote something down.

“Do need new prosthetics?” Dr. Iplier didn’t look up from his clipboard this time, focused on what he was writing.

“Y-yes…” Eric admitted quietly. “But my dad doesn’t want to get new ones. I-It's a lot of money and all, and we don’t have that much.”

“Well, you’re father wouldn’t be the one paying for them,” Dr. Iplier finally looked up. He had that unreadable look that Bim had earlier. “We can either buy you new ones, or we have someone who can make some for you.”

Eric just blinked. What kind of people were just so willing to give to him? He wasn’t worth all this effort, getting meds and new prosthetics. Randal always said he was, and when only one person seems to care about your life it can be hard to believe, but now Dr. Iplier cared and Bim cared and it was so hard to understand why they did.

“Eric?” He didn’t realize he started crying until Dr. Iplier pulled him out of his thoughts. He pulled his legs closer to his chest as the doctor sat down on the bed in front of him, looking worried.

“W-why do you― you care s-so much?” he stuttered out in between quiet sobs.

Dr. Iplier brought up his hand to rub Eric’s arm, or some other comforting gesture, but quickly brought it back down when screaming filled the halls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger again sorry but it's good boy Eric!! Next is ofc Randal I think his chapter is pretty good. I love Randal sm


	15. Randal Voorhees

Randal was resting in his bed, eyes closed and arms crossed behind his head. He took a deep breath, but before he could let it out, someone was banging on his door. Randal’s eyes snapped open and he glared up at the ceiling. 

“Randal, get out here!” Derek’s voice shouted from the other side of the door. “We got work to do and Eric isn’t around to help.” Immediately, Randal was on his feet.

“What did you do to him?” Randal asked as soon he opened the door, accussion in his tone. Derek held up his hands, smiling slyly.

“ _ I  _ didn’t do anything!” Derek had a warning in his own tone, smile looking dangerous to the blonde. “He had a meltdown in his room and Mr. Trimmer took him to the clinic. Come on, we need to get ready.” He grabbed Randal’s arm and yanked him down the hall. 

“Shit,” Randal hissed out as he was dragged down the hall. “Is he okay? Can I at least see him before we do anything?” Derek sent him a glare.

“He’s fine,” he snapped. “I told you he’s in the clinic right now.”

“Can I see him?” Randal repeated again, not trusting Derek’s word. Eric was in a new place and had a huge weight put on him for this to all go well, there was no way in hell Randal was just going to leave him alone. Derek’s grip tightened on his arm and he whipped around to tower over Randal, a snarl on his lips.

“Shut up,” he hissed, grip so tight that Randal worried he might snap his arm in half. “I told you already that Eric is fine and if you don’t shut up about it already I’ll―”

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted Derek’s would-be threat. He tossed back on his smile and let go of Randal’s arm, turning around to face whoever spoke. A grey man with shuddering figures surrounding them stood along with a taller man with a pink mustache.

Who was pointing a gun at Derek’s head.

“Do you mind explaining what you are doing here and what you were doing to the young man beside you?” The grey man phrased it as a question, but their voice was flat and deadly. 

Derek was staring down the barrel of the gun. He let out a harsh, almost nervous laugh. 

“My name is uh, Derek Derekson,” never in Randal’s time working with him, did he ever hear Derek stutter. “From Derek Derekson’s Charity Warehouse—“

“Yes I’m familiar with who you are,” the grey man interrupted him again. “What were you going to say to him?” Derek swallowed. 

“Nothing,” he lied. Randal knew he was going to say something along the lines of I’ll beat the shit outta you. “I wasn’t gonna say nothing.”

Both the grey man and the pink man narrowed their eyes, before the grey man nodded for the pink man to drop his gun. The pink man grunted, but followed the others rule and dropped his arm.

“If I see anything like that again, Derek…” the grey man warned, one of their figures breaking off and screaming in his face, making Derek jump back. 

Derek nodded and watched as the shorter man walked past him, the pink man following and making the two fingered pointing gesture that he was watching him. Randal wanted to laugh, but knew no doubt that he’d be punched right in the mouth if he did. That still didn’t stop the smile from gracing his face as Derek grabbed him again and dragged him towards the studio. 

They didn’t make it to the door however, before they were interrupted again. 

“What did you do to him?” Bim came stomping into view, blocking the entrance to the studio. “You piece of shit, what did you do to your son?”

Randal’s smile dropped and Derek didn’t even bother throwing on his own. He dropped Randal’s arm again and used his foot difference of height to intimidate Bim. Shockingly, it didn’t work. 

“What the hell are you accusing me of?” Derek spat in his face, making Bim flinch just slightly, probably because Derek just literally spit in his face. “I didn’t do anything to my son.”

“He said  _ you  _ are the reason he had an anxiety attack in the first place,” Bim jabbed a finger at Derek’s chest.  _ He’s dead meat _ , Randal thought, watching helplessly as Derek got angrier. “He said he isn’t allowed to get new legs because  _ you  _ won’t let him. Not to mention his constant flinching and that  _ confrontation _ we had earlier—”

Derek lashed out at Bim, grabbing him by his tie and slamming him against the door. Bim let out a shout and immediately tried prying his hands off, mask of confidence falling flat on the ground and revealing a look of fear. 

“You say another word and I’ll kill you,” Derek snarled. Bim was breathing heavily and looked seconds away from panic. Randal has to do something, but Derek was  _ huge _ , both in height and built, Randal couldn’t even fight him off for himself. So he decided to do the one thing he could do. 

He started screaming. 

Usually when Derek was being an abusive asshole, no one is around but Eric and Randal, but now they had a whole house of people that can help, and he knew at least one of them had a gun. 

Both Bim and Derek jumped at his sudden, wordless screaming and looked at him. They heard a few doors opening and Randal screamed louder. Derek seemed to realize what he was doing and dropped Bim, grabbing a fist full of Randal’s hair and slapping a hand over his mouth. Randal yelped and licked Derek’s hand, making his let go of his mouth in disgust. 

“You childish son of a—“ Derek didn’t get to finish before a gunshot sounded above his head. Randal smiled.

“Let go of him,” the grey man from earlier ordered. Randal tried to turn his head to see them, but Derek tightened his grip on his hair, keeping his head yanked back and making him wince. “Let go of him or else Wilford won’t miss again.”

Derek looked around over Randal shoulder, clearly outnumbered even if Randal couldn’t see them from his position. Not wanting to die, Derek let go of his hair and immediately someone grabbed Randal’s arm and pulled him away. Two pairs of arms wrapped around him protectively— Randal glanced next to him and saw two identical, angry faces glaring at Derek— and he looked back smugly.

“Wilford,” the grey man was now in front of Randal, as was Bim and the pink man― who was safe to guess was Wilford. “Take the shot.”

“What―” Derek was cut off as Wilford cocked his gun again. 

“N-no no no wait,” Randal felt his heart stop as Eric pushes his way past the crowd and stumbled out in front of his dad. Randal struggled against the arms and wiggled one of his own out to grab Eric and pull him back. “Don’t― please don’t kill him.”

“Eric,” Randal’s voice sound breathless in his ears. Either from the screaming or from fear. 

“Eric, come back here, you can get hurt.” Another man in a doctor’s uniform finished his plead.

“H-he’s all I have left, please,” Eric begged, completely ignoring the others. “Please don’t kill him.” Derek reached out and placed his hands on his son’s shoulders. Randal saw red when Eric flinched and he can tell the others did too.

“He can’t stay here!” Bim cried out, gesturing to himself. “He threaten to kill me! And he was threatening Randal! And you!”

“It’s fine,” Eric said quickly, in a fit of panic as Wilford adjusted his grip. “Me and Randal are used to it. We don’t have to stay here. W-we can leave and stay with dad.” Derek nodded, looking smug.

“You are staying here, Eric,” the grey man corrected. “As well as Randal, but Derek is not staying in this house.”

“What?” Derek scoffed, as if he didn’t have a gun pointed in his face. “You just gonna throw me out? Without my son and employee? They need me! I pay for their food, clothes, and the roofs over their heads!”

“You did,” the grey man admits, stepping closer. Wilford following their step. Derek let go of Eric’s shoulders as the gun pressed against his forehead. Bim shot forward and yanked Eric away just as the ground opened up and swallowed up Derek. “But that will be our job now.”

Eric yelped as the ground closed up again and fell to the ground to grab where his father just stood. Bim tried to grab him again, but quickly pulled away when he flinched and curled up on the floor, letting out a quiet sob. Randal quickly struggled out of the arms hugging him and rushed to his friend. He completely ignored Eric’s flinch and pulled him into his lap, shushing him softly as Eric clung to him.

“W-what did y-you do to him? Wh-where is he?” Eric gasped in between shaky breaths, looking up at the grey man and Wilford as he gripped Randal’s sweater like his life depended on it. Randal ran his hand down Eric’s back in an attempt to comfort him. 

“Dropped him off somewhere in the New England states,” they answered casually, fixing the cuffs of their suit and rolling their neck. Randal could hear a crack coming from it. “No harm came to him, but without his car or any of his belongings, it will take awhile for him to get back here. If he’s stupid enough to come back.” They smiled at Eric and crouched down to their level, their joints popping painfully as they did.

“My name is Dark,” they greeted them both properly. “And we’re going to be your new family. Much better than he ever was, I can assure you.” Dark held out a hand for Eric to take. He hesitated, but slowly accepted it and Randal let go of him so that they can both get up. Dark smiled at Randal as well, before dropping Eric’s hand and turning to the others.

“Get breakfast ready for a new members. Bing, Jims, please show them around and explain a few things. Dr. Iplier do you mind checking over Bim to make sure he’s alright…” the crowd started to disperse as Dark rattled off orders and Randal bumped Eric’s shoulder. Once Eric’s tear stained face looked down at him, Randal smiled. Eric gave a choked smile back. 

Things were gonna be hard for awhile, but Randal was going to be there for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in the middle of my finals but I love Randal so it's worth it. Next week is Illinois baby!! Two more and then I'm done!!!


	16. Illinois

Illinois huffed as he made it to the manor. He narrowed his eyes as he looked around it, trying to get a better look in the dark of the night. Sure, the manor looked old, but not old enough for there to have adventures and such in it. Maybe the old man that told him of the manor lied about a curse, he did seem a little crazy, homeless and tending to the flowers in a park. Still, if there was a curse upon this house, Illinois wouldn’t want to turn up his nose to it.

He walked around the manor, trying to find anything suspicious or interesting. By the looks of the structure, it was built during the 1800s― mid-1800s by his guess― but a few fixes since then. In fact, there were a few newer looking furniture that couldn’t have been a few years old on the porch. This house was a melting pot of all sorts of decades.

Illinois was in the middle of inspecting the healthy garden, trying to figure out how some of the plants could possibly grow in this climate, when he figured it out.

People still lived here.

Just as he was about to run away from someone’s  _ private property _ , he heard a loud rustling coming from the woods. 

Illinois spun around, hand on his gun holster as he braced himself. He could just barely see something in between the trees, watching as the huge beast hobbled among them. Its feet crushed bushes and branches fallen from trees. Illinois pulled his gun from its holster and waited for the beast to show any signs of attack. When Illinois clicked the safety off, the beast stopped. It must’ve seen him because one of it’s arms moved.

A gunshot sounded, but it wasn’t from Illinois.

Illinois was quick to duck to the ground, holding his own gun tight in his grip and finger steady on the trigger. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a light turn on from inside the manor. Illinois quickly hid against the stones of their raised porch and glanced towards the beast. With the light now shining outside, he could see a few more features. 

The beast was still incredibly tall, but it wasn’t a creature at all. It was a man who… was dressed like a pirate? Odd, but Illinois has seen weirder. He held up a finger to his lips towards the pirate, praying he would stay quiet.

“Hello?” someone called out from the manor. “Wilford if that’s you, I'm gonna kill you.”

Soft footsteps against stone was heard. The person was coming outside. 

“Wilford, seriously,” A flashlight beam ran through the grass until it landed on the pirate. “Holy sh―”

“Ahoy there!” the pirate boomed, smiling and waving an old looking pistol― that must be the gun that shot at him― at the person with the flashlight. “I was told there be treasure here?”

Illinois furrowed his brows together and mouthed treasure under his breath at the pirate. The person with the flashlight seemed to have the same reaction.

“Treasure? Really?” they sounded more tired than anything else. “God, this is getting ridiculous. Dark―” by the sound of their voice, they turned behind them to talk to someone. “We got a new one. Some pirate dude.”

“We’re supposed to be getting three again,” a new voice― most likely Dark― answered from further away. They had a strange echo to their voice that confused Illinois. “Does there seem to be more?”

“No―”

“Yes! There’s a cowboy looking fella trying to hide.” The pirate gestured with his gun towards Illinois and he bit his tongue so he didn’t start cursing out the man. At least now he knows never to take him on adventures.

While Illinois was busy glaring at the pirate, the person with a flashlight rounded the corner and flashed him. Illinois immediately threw up an arm to cover his eyes at the sudden light. Once he got used to it, he peaked out at the person and threw on a charming smile.

“Hey there, good looking,” flirting usually got him out of these situations. “Nice to meet me.”

“Oh my god, we got another Wilford, but worse.” The person― a man in a black and silver superhero mask, a tank top, and fluffy pajama bottoms― gestured for Illinois to get up. “Come on then, you two already woke everyone so might as well introduce yourselves.”

Illinois pushed himself off the wall and looked towards the pirate. He was walking again and he didn’t seem to be getting smaller. He lumbered into the light and smiled down at Illinois. Jesus  _ Chirst,  _ he was  _ huge _ . And did he really have  _ logs  _ for legs? Illinois and the pirate followed the masked man inside the manor.

There were several other people waiting for them inside, looking out the windows and doors. Once inside, a black and white person with red and blue figures dancing around them, stepped forward and smiled at the two.

“Welcome,” despite their smile, their voice was flat. “My name is Dark. You’re both late.”

“Now hold on there, short, Dark, and handsome,” Dark’s smile turned into a scowl at Illinois’ nickname. “I seemed to have missed the invitation.”

“Ye must be the captain than, aye?” the pirate pushed past Illinois and stuck out his hand for Dark to shake. The look on their face when a giant, meaty hand was pushed in front of them almost made Illinois burst out laughing. A few of the others did let out a few giggles. 

“And you must be Magnum,” Dark slowly raised their hand and shook the pirate’s hand. “And you, Illinois.”

“The one and only,” Illinois winked at them. “Now about this invitation―”

“You two should get to bed,” Dark interrupted, smiling once again. “Some of my housemates here would be  _ glad _ to show you both your rooms.”

“Oh, Oh!” two identical men tumbled out of the crowd. They climbed over each other trying to get Dark’s attention. “Us! Us! Please Dark, please?”

“Jims,” Dark said this as if he was unaware of the two men jumping over themselves. “Would you like to show Magnum and Illinois to their rooms?”

The two nodded rapidly and practically tackled Illinois and Magnum. One of the Jims― as Dark called them― wrapped both arms and legs around Magnum’s arm and clung to him as he followed the Jim that was leading him and Illinois away.

Not quite the adventure Illinois was looking for, but this would definitely be an interesting one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more until the end baby I'm so excited!! Next week is Magnum baby!!!!


	17. Captain Magnum

The morning after the fiasco that was last night, Magnum was almost all too relieved to get out of bed. He’s a big man and a big man needs a big bed, which he did not have in that room. A normal bed that can easily fit two adults wasn’t enough room for the pirate. 

He had to practically rock himself out of bed, freezing for a second as he heard a  _ snap! _ come from below him. He glanced down at the bed and frowned. He hopes he didn’t break it. Magnum finally pushed himself out of bed and grabbed his clothes. He only slept in his undershirt and trousers, so he worked on getting all the layers on him once again.

Magnum left his room completely dressed and glanced around. He wasn’t all that sure where the kitchen was― he wasn’t really paying attention to everything around him with two hyperactive twins latched onto his arms and swinging around― but he does remember it being near the porch.

“God, I’m not gonna get used to that,” a gruff voice sounded as someone a little ways down the hall opened his door and dragged himself out. He dressed in a doctor’s coat on top of his pajamas. The man gave Magnum a tight smile and Magnum grinned kindly back. “Hi. Are you Magnum, Illinois, or Yancy?”

“Well, I don’t know of any Yancy, but I be Captain Magnum,” he hit a fist against his chest as punctuation. “And you are, matey?”

“Dr. Iplier. You can probably guess I’m the doctor.” Dr. Iplier started down the hall and Magnum followed him, missing the wince the doctor gave every time he walked. 

“It’s nice to be making yer acquaintances, doctor,” Magnum said, using this walk to actually look around this time. “Quite the palace you all got here. Say, I’ve been told there be treasure here. Have ye heard anything about that?”

Dr. Iplier huffed out a laugh, but stopped when he looked up to see that Magnum was completely serious. 

“Uh, no. Sorry Magnum, but I don’t think we have any treasure here.” 

Magnum huffed, but unlike Dr. Iplier, his was out of frustration. Why did he come here than? His crew was probably finding the real treasure while he spent a lousy night in this mansion. They continued to the kitchen in silence. Dark was leaning against the counter and drinking coffee from a mug with a man in a blue shirt― Magnum vaguely remembered him from last night, among the crowd and standing next in between an orange man and a suited man.

“Good morning, doctor,” the blue man greeted Dr. Iplier and glanced up from the stove at Magnum. “Goo-od morning, Captain.” 

Dr. Iplier gave a half-hearted greeting as well as he made a beeline to the coffee pot next to Dark. Magnum only grunted and focused on Dark. 

“Ye be lying about yer treasure.” he stated. Dark only raised an eyebrow at him, pushing themself off the counter and straightening their suit.

“I never said anything about treasure. You just assumed we had some.”

“I was told ye had some.” Magnum wasn’t one to get upset easily, but he also wasn’t one to take lies with a smile. Especially about treasure. 

“By someone random that you didn’t know,” Dark replied dryly, though amusement clearly shown in their eyes. “If I were you, I would take it out on the one who really lied.”

Dark took another sip from their mug and turned back to the blue man. Magnum glared and took out his gun, aiming it at them. No one seemed phased.

“I should be taking it out on both of ye for deceiving me.” He clicked off the safety as Dark took another sip. 

Just then, a pink cloud of smoke appeared beside Dark. Magnum shot at it in his fright, but the bullet went straight through it and embedding into the title backwash of the kitchen wall. The cloud disappeared and revealed a peppy looking pink man. The man pressed a kiss to Dark’s cheek before even realizing Magnum was there.

“Excuse me, sir?” The pink man slurred. “And who might you be pointing your shooty at my hubby?”

“I be the one getting my treasure from this landlubber who’s trying to trick me!” Magnum shouted. He sounded like whiny teen not getting what he wanted. “The man said he had treasure!”

“They,” the pink man corrected without thinking. He hugged his partner tight to his chest and stuck his tongue out at Magnum. “And the only treasure we have is my family!”

“That’s sweet, Wilford.” Dark mumbled, taking another sip from their coffee.

“So there isn’t no real treasure?” All the men present shook their heads. Magnum threw up his arms― almost hitting Wilford with his gun. “Then what in Davy Jones’ Locker am I doing here!”

“That’s just what I was thinkin’.”

Magnum started at the familiar voice and twisted around to look behind him. He grinned widely, turning around fully and opening his arms excitedly.

“Eddie!” said cowboy crashed into his husband’s chest, letting Magnum wrap him a tight hug and lift him into his arms. He smothered Ed’s face with kisses and smiled when he laughed. “What are ye doing here with these people? I came to yer farm to surprise ye, only to find no one there!”

“I’ve been living here for awhile,” Ed’s response was muffled against Magnum’s shoulder so he uncovered his face to continue. “I told you I moved last time you visited.”

Magnum narrowed his eyes at the other, fighting back the smile behind his beard. He was a bit scatterbrained, but he might have remembered his last visit and Ed bringing that up. Instead of responding, he just grunted and buried his face in Ed’s hair.

“Wait a minute,” Magnum pulled his head away and turned back around to face the others, still holding Ed in his arms. They were all staring at the two in shock― except the blue man, who was still focused and the food on the stove. Dr. Iplier seemed to be the one that spoke. “You two know each other?”

“They’re marr-r-ried, doctor,” The blue man deadpanned. Dark raised an eyebrow at him. Blue man seemed to notice that and added, “I scan everyone who enters here. Magnum and Edgar have a marriage certificate going back to 2012.”

“You’ve been  _ married _ all this time and you  _ never _ told us?” Dr. Iplier gaped. 

“That’s not true,” Ed waved him off. “I’ve told y’all I’ve had a wife before.”

“Yeah, and so did I, but not  _ recently.  _ How could you not tell us about your  _ husband?” _

“Who’s a husband?” The orange man came rolling into the room. He now had sunglasses covering his eyes unlike last night, were his eyes were visible and glowing brightly. 

“Ed and Magnum!” Dr. Iplier shouted, throwing out his arms to gesture to Ed still in Magnum’s arms. “They’ve apparently been married for years and Ed’s never told us!”

The orange man snorted, moving to sit on the counter next to the stove and kicking his feet as he smirked. The blue man whacked his leg with a spatula and he stopped kicking.

“What? Did all of you not know that?” he teased. Ed was starting to laugh again and Magnum joined him with a deep chuckle. 

“Oh, shut it Bing!” Dr. Iplier dropped his arms and waved the orange man― Bing― off before turning back to the coffee pot. He grumbled about robots making him look stupid as he poured himself a mug and left the room.

“Well, are you leaving now?” Magnum blinked and looked over at Wilford in confusion, the others doing the same. Wilford put on a look of innocents, but he was still hugging Dark against his chest and narrowed his eyes slightly at Magnum. “What? You said you only came here for treasure and there isn’t any. So you can leave now.”

Dark let out a soft ‘oh no’, but Magnum just continued to stare in confusion, eyebrows furrowed together. 

“I won’t be staying much,” he admitted. “Still have the seas to travel, but Ed is here so I’ll be around.”

“You’ll always have a place to stay, Magnum,” Dark said. Wilford looked at them as if he was personally offended by what they said. Dark rolled their eyes and placed a hand on their husband’s shoulder. “I only suggest you don’t bring anyone else here. And I will make sure to get you a better room as well.”

“Darky!” Wilford whined, but he was ignored.

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Magnum boomed. “My bed was a little small… and I might’ve broken it a bit. I’d be glad to stay a few more days! My crew should be fine without me.”

Wilford whined again, but the blue man was stepping away from the stove with a few plates in his hands, announcing that breakfast was ready. Bing hopped off the counter too with his own plates as they set up the table. Everyone ignored Wilford’s complaining about Magnum staying as they sat down to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not the best chapter in my opinion but its Magnum so he's flaky. Anyways yeah!! Yancy next week and than I'm fucking done until Mark's next stupid project!!


	18. Yancy

Yancy danced nervously on the balls of his feet as he stared at the manor doors. This was really a stupid idea. He should be back in prison, he shouldn’t be on parole. He shouldn’t be in a house with other people. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t― 

Yancy could see his breathing stutter in the cold air and he swallowed harshly. He could do this. He was trying to be better, he could do this.

He brought up a fist to knock. One, two, three. That was a normal amount, right? He waited nervously for the door to open, trying not to let his mind drift. When it did open, a short man in a nice suit greeted him.

“Oh, hello!” he said cheerfully, smiling up at him. “You must be Yancy. Come on in, we’re currently decorating for the holidays so you can help.” 

Yancy swallowed again and followed the suited man inside. Immediately, he was smothered in warmth. He shivered.

“Wasn’t Thanksgiving yesterday?” he questioned as he looked at some of the Christmas and Hanukkah decorations. 

“Yeah, but we don’t celebrate that, so whatever,” he shrugged and turned a corner. “My name is Bim Trimmer by the way, sorry I almost forgot to tell you.” 

Yancy didn’t say anything as they turned another corner and entered a living room looking area. A lot of people were scattered about, putting up decorations and talking. A bunch were surrounding the Christmas tree and putting up ornaments and tinsel. A couple were even setting up a menorah on the coffee table. Someone standing next to a box filled with decorations looked up once they entered. They were also wearing a suit, but with a red and blue outline surrounding them. 

“Hello,” they greeted flatly, moving through the crowd to stand in front of Yancy and Bim. “My name is Dark. Apologies for us not being ready for your arrival, but you are a few weeks late.” 

Yancy shrunk a little at being addressed. He didn’t like this guy. Something about them reminded him too much of his father and the warden. Combined.

“Oh, don’t scare him, Darky,” Yancy looked over to see a pink man sitting by the tree, wrapped in colorful tinsel and even wearing a hot pink Santa hat. He hopped up from the floor— almost tripping on the tinsel— and strides over to the three. “Yancy here needed to wait for parole remember? And you know he wouldn’t like it if you had broken him out of there.” He turned face Yancy and smiled at him. “Dark has been worried sick on when you were coming over.”

Yancy nodded, glancing over at Dark. They all stared at him. Why were they staring at him? Was he supposed to do something? Apologize for being late? Even if he couldn’t help it?

“What’s wrong, son?” the pink man frowned, tilting his head and moving a little closer. “You haven’t said a word yet?”

Yancy felt his throat clog and he tried swallowing around it, noticing that all attention was on him― even the others decorating have stopped to stare at him. The pink man leaned over to whisper to Dark, still staring at Yancy.

“You sure this is the right guy?” He barely lowered his voice and it made Yancy’s face burn in humiliation. “He’s a little different from what we’ve seen.”

“Yes, he’s the right guy, Wilford,” one of the men setting up the menorah― the tall one with a trench coat― answered. He got up and gestured for the others to move aside, which they did, leaving Yancy feeling vulnerable. “Don’t worry about him, Yancy. Wilford Warfstache is eccentric. My name is the Host. Welcome to the manor.” 

Yancy nodded again, staring at the scars that disappeared under the bandages around his eyes. He should probably say something, eventually.

“It’s uh,”  _ Great start.  _ “Nice to be ‘ere, I guess. Thank youes for letting me stay.” 

“Our pleasure,” Dark answered. They adjusted their arms behind his back and looked Yancy up and down, watching as the ex-convict shrunk more. Their eyes stared at his knuckle tattoos for a moment longer than everything else, but eventually looked back up and smiled. “You don’t have any bags?”

“Uh, no,” Yancy shifted on the balls of his feet and looked away. Dark really made him uncomfortable. “My old clothes before… prison… are too small on me now, so I don’t have anythin’.”

“Y-you were in prison?” a tall man with circular glasses and prosthetics squeaked out from where he sat on a couch, next to a man with long blonde hair. Yancy felt his chest swell protectively at the man’s negative reaction. 

“Yeah, so what if I was,” he snipped at him, making him shrink and move closer to the blonde. 

“What were you in for?” two identical men bounced on the floor and one pointed a camera at him. “Robbery? Vandalism?  _ Murder?”  _

“None of youse fuckin’ business,” Yancy snarled at the two. He clenched his fist and crossed his arms. “Why don’t youes two shut up before I make youes.”

“Hey!” Bim, Wilford, and the doctor looking man still next to the coffee table shouted, making Yancy flinch. Dark was also glaring at him, their colored outlines shuddering threateningly.

“That behavior won’t be tolerated here,” they all but commanded. “If you can’t get along here, then you can’t stay here. Understand?”

Yancy gulped and nodded, looking down at the floor. He could still feel the others’ eyes burning into him, but they started to continue decorating. The group surrounding him left to join in again. 

Yancy stood awkwardly alone as they all got back to work. This was a bad idea. Yancy knew he should’ve never left the prison, he was still a violent criminal. Maybe he could talk to his parole officer, convince them to send him back to Happy Trails. He wasn’t ready to be free yet.

“Hey Yancy,” someone called out to him, surprising him out of his thoughts. An orange themed man waved at him, sitting next to a man in a king outfit and a girl with red hair. “Do you want to help us with the tree?” 

Yancy stared at him for a moment, debating if he should or not. They waited patiently for him to answer. Eventually, Yancy walked hesitantly to the three, sitting quietly to the side.

He wasn’t going to quit. If this really didn’t work out and he was sent back anyways, then at least he could say he tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the book until Mark makes any new egos!! I hope you all liked it and now that it's over, PLEASE make request before the void enters my system and I don't know what to do with my life anymore.  
Anyways see you next ego!!


End file.
